La Vengeance de Kort
by Levana Fay
Summary: "This is not going to end well for you." What if Jenny wasn't really dead? What if she had been abducted by an enemy?
1. Chapter 1

Le Vengeance au de Kort

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Rating: T

Summary: "_This is not going to end well for you_." What if Jenny wasn't really dead? What if she had been abducted by an enemy?

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't believe what he was seeing. Jenny had been fine when he'd last spoken to her, it just didn't seem possible that she was gone. The shock had numbed him when he had read that little card saying 'Shepard' placed in the chalked silhouette of where her body had been and he couldn't speak, couldn't think about how his life would be without her in it. Vance had rambled on in the background but he paid no attention to him, his every thought about her. She had been there for him when he needed her, taking his side in the Ari situation even though the only reason to do so was his gut, being supportive through his amnesia and letting him keep his Agent status while he was away on his 'Margarita Safari', but he wasn't there for her when she needed him the most.

After the numbness of shock came the pain. Pain from knowing that she died to protect him from her mistake, the one target she failed to neutralise, and the one that had the means to get revenge. If he'd only followed her to that funeral, instead of pride getting in the way, she might still be alive. They'd always made a great team. He wouldn't have left her unaided; he'd have stayed with her even when she told him not to. Never neglect your partner's safety, that was one of his rules, wasn't it? Well it should have been because when they were together they had always felt safe. Instead though, he'd left her protection to Tony and Ziva, who wouldn't stand up to her orders and hadn't even been able to keep her in sight. What made it worse was that she had died alone. Even Franks had left her side, leaving her with no back up and four guys after her blood. He'd failed her.

-

Pain; the first thing Jenny was aware of as she tried to climb through her mind towards true consciousness. She could see bright lights through her eyelids and she could taste and smell blood for a brief moment. Then the four points of searing agony in her body flared and she felt a sharp sting as something hit her head and it all became too much. The suffering seemed to settle over every sense she owned like a fog and she felt her mind retreating quickly from it. She welcomed oblivion when it arrived.

-

A middle aged man sat next to the body of the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes upon. She had been shot four times in the torso but luckily the paramedics had discovered a slight pulse and she had been brought straight to this hospital. When he had heard his partner tell him what had happened he had decided to jump on the first plane to LA to get to her side, knowing that he would have been ordered to do so regardless. He had been terrified that she was going to die, but they had removed the bullets and stopped the bleeding in time. He reached a hand out to her and brushed some of her long red hair from her head. She was pale from blood loss but that was to be expected.

He and his partner had set a plan in motion a year ago when he had realised that she didn't want to have anything to do with him and this little stunt of hers nearly brought all of that careful planning crashing down. Thankfully the drugs that he had been slipping into the Bourbon at her work and home hadn't prevented her from defending herself in the fire fight that she had been involved in. He needed to ring his partner and tell him that she was alive. Hopefully he would be able to take care of the evidence in her liquor before anyone found it. He leaned over her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead before moving off to make his call.

A distinctive British accent answered the phone on the third ring, clearly expecting the call.

"_She's alive?" _At his affirmative, the voice chuckled darkly.

"_Good. I've already sent the double to your hospital. She should be being brought up from the morgue now. Switch the bodies and bring her to the safe house. Don't worry about the documentation; my associate has taken care of it._"

He looked at his phone surprised, as the line went dead. He'd been promised that he could keep her. He didn't like this new development at all, but he couldn't say no. The voice may sound charming but he'd met him more times in the last year then he'd like and he wasn't the type of man he wanted to get on the wrong side of. He decided it was in his best interests to get to work and he took out a metal poker from his bag. He had just bought it since he couldn't actually bring one over on the flight. He took aim at the correct part of her head that he needed to swell up and swung the rod at it. It connected forcefully and he hastily hid it, just in case anyone had heard the clunk when he had struck her. It felt so wrong to be hurting her when he was a healer by profession, but it felt right too, because he could look after her afterwards.

Half an hour later, he lifted his head from her hand which he was holding up to his face and watched as a phoney paramedic wheeled a body bag in to the room. This was the hard part. He sighed and stood up, dropping her hand and removing the heart monitors. He lifted her, placing her in the body bag that the other guy had just lifted the double from and zipped it up. He checked that the woman had holes in her torso in the correct places and then attached the phoney paramedic to the monitors, to let it look like she was still alive. He instructed the other man to put the monitors on her chest in a few minutes, and then he checked the hallway and, seeing no one, set off towards the side exit with his precious cargo, hoping no one would stop him.

-

_The good doctor is timely, at least. _The British man in the safe house stood, straightening his jacket and getting out his gun. He stood at the window, watching as the white car backed in to the garage, and checking that no one was tailing it. He smiled after a minute of clear streets and walked quickly to the garage. The doctor was waiting patiently, the boot of his car already open showing a black body bag stashed there. _The fool thinks he's keeping her_. He chuckled to himself at the doctor's stupidity and gestured to the bag.

"Open it." He'd know if the weak man before him had pulled a switch since he'd memorised her face himself. Not that it was a difficult thing to do, she was distinctive, a natural beauty, but not his cup of tea. The idiot doctor hastily did as instructed, unzipping the bag and folding the side down to show her face. Yes that was her. There was a dark bruise appearing on her head that looked very recent which contrasted sharply with her pale, almost bloodless, skin.

"Did you do that?" the doctor nodded.

"I did it hard enough to cause swelling in the brain, and where it is located it should cause fairly thorough amnesia."

The doctor's usefulness was at an end. He chuckled and then leaned over her, stroking her face to distract the jealous surgeon, who had straightened up to protest, and then he lifted his gun to the man's head, firing before he could react. The Doctors body fell limply to the ground, blood pooling around his head, from the hole in his skull.

"A fitting end for a neurologist." He whispered. He brushed her hair from her face as a last insult to the doctor, before looking through the dead man's medical bag, which contained the supplies that he needed. It was filled mostly with syringes of a memory repression drug, but also contained quite a few sedatives. He pulled a sedative out of it and tucked it in his jacket pocket. He might need that before they get to the next safe house. He turned back to her, gloating a little and stole a kiss on her cheek roughly, like that time over a year ago in Paris, his hatred for her spilling out in the action.

"I told you it wouldn't end well for you. _Bonjour_ _Cherie_."

Trent Kort grinned.

-

Jenny woke slowly, the pain in her body blazing and she sucked in a sharp breath, alerting the man next to her that she had awoken. She watched him pick up a syringe and inject it in her arm and she instantly felt relief as the pain gradually lessened. He had to add a second syringe before it dissipated completely.

"Thank you." She smiled a little at the man and he grinned back.

"You had us all worried there, Jennifer." She blinked at him and then her face froze in horror. She didn't know who she was! Jennifer? Was that her name? Who was he? Where was she? What had happened to her? She tried to remember her past, the faces of her parents, the _names_ of her parents, _her_ name and began to panic in earnest when she couldn't recall a single fact about her life. Desperately she focussed on the man before her. He had said that she had worried him, so he must know her.

"Who are you? Where am I?" She asked, trying to ignore the quiver in her voice as she said it, hoping that he would be able to shed some light on her predicament. He shook his head sadly at her questions and closed his eyes for a brief moment before looking at her forlornly.

"The doctor said you may have some memory problems Jennifer, but don't worry, it's only temporary. You are in a safe place, well, a safe house which we have been using as a base of operations for the past few months, before your attempted mur- I mean, your accident." He looked upset for a moment and she realised that he must be someone who cares for her a great deal. "As for whom I am, my name is Trent Kort... and I am your brother."

Jenny stared at him, her mind spinning, trying to understand what she had been told. He was her brother, well that explained why he was so worried about her. A base of operations for what? Her attempted murder? Who had tried to kill her? Why was he trying to cover it up by calling it an accident? She tried to voice her questions but he waved them off.

"Rest Jennifer, then when you are better I'll answer all of your questions, I promise." He stood up and moved to the door.

"Just one question then." He stopped at the door and sighed but agreed. "If you are my brother, is my last name Kort?" He smiled at her reassuringly and nodded.

"Of course it is. What else would it be?"

A.N.: I have edited this chapter just a little because Kort sounded too lovey-dovey. He isn't, he hates her.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"…_Doctor Todd Gelfand was found dead in an abandoned house, two miles from Bethesda Hospital where he worked as a neurologist. According to the coroners' report, he was shot in the side of the head approximately three weeks ago…"_

"Wasn't that your doctor, boss?" Special Agent Antony DiNozzo asked, as the rest of the team, Ziva David and Timothy McGee, dispersed from the television in the middle of the bullpen, back to their desks.

"Yes DiNozzo, he was." Gibbs replied, turning to his computer screen, a clear indication the discussion was over. He wasn't exactly interested in Todd's death, not really caring for the man since he found out he had been trying to get Jenny to go on a date with him a year after she had decided she didn't want to see him again. No means no, especially with a woman who could kill you with her bare hands. There was no use trying again and again. He allowed himself to smile a little at the memory of those brass knuckles she'd lent to Abby. Not the weapon of a lady who couldn't defend herself and he had seen her defend herself with those knuckles, in close up. Probably still had the bruises from the last time he had snuck up on her. His smile faded as his mind replayed his thought: the last time. He closed his eyes as the misery and agony descended upon his soul once again. Not that it ever really left, but at work he could bury himself in his job and forget that everything that made life worth living had already passed on.

He watched his team, reassembled from the areas they had been exiled to by Vance, as they worked their new case. They were all he had now, all he cared about, and he was going to make sure that they all had long happy lives and died when they were old and grey, rather than in their prime like Jenny. Another wave of despair hit him and he suddenly had to leave.

"Going for coffee. Want one DiNozzo?" Tony looked up surprised but nodded his head automatically. Gibbs had seen him drinking away his guilt in Scotch lately and he didn't want that for Tony. If he got Liver damage he would never forgive himself. So he would get him coffee with all the crap he puts in it, just to keep him away from the bottle.

-

Three weeks had passed and Jenny was restless. Trent had explained to her what her job was; she was an assassin for the state, a damn good one apparently. She killed the terrorists and he was her handler. He gave her the hits and then oversaw them to report back to their boss. He refused to tell her who had shot her though, just letting her know that the person had been a friend of hers and had turned traitor. They had been using this place as a base because this is where their superiors contacted them with a kill order and it was a safe place where they could practice shooting and other skills. They had never messed up a kill and he was very proud of that fact. So proud in fact that he had been supervising her recovery and physiotherapy so that he would know the instant she was ready to begin re-training her muscles to do what she used to. Today the therapist, Gregory, had told him that her muscles were sufficiently repaired to begin.

"Hello Jennifer. Are you ready to hit the firing range?" Trent smiled at her condescendingly, as if he didn't think she could still shoot and she scowled back. She'd show him. This must be the sibling rivalry that Gregory had told her they had, trying to constantly outdo the other. Well she wasn't going to be shown up by him.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You were shot not long ago."

"Three weeks ago and Greg says I'm fit enough to grapple so a little shooting shouldn't be too difficult." Her cocky attitude just made him smile wider and he tried not to laugh. She huffed at his grin and slid off the physio bed, where she had been strengthening her stomach muscles to a point where she could do twenty sit-ups without breaking into a sweat, which was more than an unfit person could do, without the bullet holes.

Jenny followed Trent to the firing range and put on the ear defenders that he passed to her. He walked up to one of the windows and she went to the one next to him, watching him carefully. She wasn't really as comfortable as she had been making out and she didn't want to make a fool of herself. He picked up the gun in front of him and slid the clip out, checking it was full then slid it back in and cocked it. She copied his movements exactly and the feeling of familiarity almost took her breath away. She could do this! She pointed the gun at the target and opened fire.

-

Trent Kort had been getting edgy. It had taken so long for her to heal that he had been losing the patience to carry out his plan, but he specialised in long term undercover operations and this one had barely begun. Since she had awoken the first time he had been giving her the memory suppressant, to stop any of her repressed memories coming back. He didn't know what the long term effects of using the drug were though so he was trying to speed up his plans. She hadn't remembered anything so far, so he had pushed Gregory to deem her fit for training so he could get as far as he could before she began having problems. He hoped that by the time she remembered who she was, she would've already killed at least some of them. He smiled as he thought of their faces when they saw she was alive, only to then have to watch as she killed them all off, one at a time, until one took it upon themselves to take her out. How _heartbreaking_, he chuckled. How happy it would make him to watch it.

Finally they were at a point where they could assess her skill, and he was eager to see if she was as proficient as she had been made out to be when she was an Agent. She wasn't used to walking around as much anymore so the kickback on the gun should be entertaining. Trent watched her as she picked up the gun, trying to look confident but failing miserably. He smirked to himself. _Not so capable now are you, Director?_ He released the clip slowly then checked it and slid it back in to his gun, nearly sniggering out loud as he watched her clumsily do the same. When she raised her gun however his smile vanished. She immediately corrected her stance and opened fire on the target, firing off three rounds, and then she lowered her gun and smiled at him triumphantly. He checked the target and saw her placement was near perfect: one in the head and two in the heart. He smiled at her and praised her positioning while his mind desperately tried to think how to spin his story, then when he came up with the ideal plan he smiled wider in relief.

"An execution shot. Well done Jennifer, you're remembering your assassin training." She grinned proudly and finished off the clip, emptying it in the target's heart, then put the gun down and turned to him.

"I felt like I'd done it before and it just came to me." Trent groaned inwardly, she was beginning to remember things. Well thankfully she had just remembered firing a gun, not who had taught her to shoot so the plan should still be good to go. "What's next?"

A.N.: I know I killed Todd and made him a little bit needy and weird but seriously, who tries to pick up someone in a hospital while working on that persons' loved one? Creep.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Gibbs leaned back and tipped the bottle to the ceiling, throwing the liquid to the back of his throat, feeling it burning its way down in to his empty stomach. Since he had finished work three hours ago, he had been down here in his basement, sitting inside _Kelly_ and drinking his Bourbon. Well, his new bottle of Bourbon since he had managed to get through seven bottles in the last three weeks. This was his way of reconnecting with his old partner, his drinking companion, his lover, his Jenny who had been taken from him so brutally and prematurely. He remembered the time he had introduced her to it. They had been lying in bed after a particularly energetic night and he had grabbed a bottle from his stash and two glasses. She hadn't liked the taste at the time but she had learned to like it when he had poured it on her and licked it off her skin, kissing her afterwards. She had said she liked it better second hand. It wasn't long after that that she had been taking a sip from his glass and then progressing to having a glass of her own. He chuckled, saluting her memory once more by turning the bottle upside down and swallowing as much as he could before needing air. He was drunk as a skunk and he had no intention of stopping until he passed out, just so he didn't have to lay awake at night trying to sleep with memories of her and regrets floating around his head. He felt like a hypocrite, stopping Tony from drinking his life away just to go home and do the same, but Tony had his whole life ahead of him, a life in which he had time to find the other part of his soul, Gibbs had lost his, forever. He took another long swig, bashing it painfully against his teeth as he did so and he looked at how much he had drunk. Nearly three quarters of the bottle, no wonder his hand eye co-ordination was off.

Why had she gone to that diner? Why? She didn't have to face it alone; she could've told him and his team, they could've helped out. She would be alive now if she had just trusted him. He became more irritated at himself for thinking that thought. She wouldn't be alive though, would she? Not for long anyway. Ducky said that she was dying. Just what had she been dying of? He'd said that being shot to death was more merciful than what awaited her had she lived. Why? What was so terrible that it would cause her to run to meet her death in the desert? Why didn't she tell him about it when he had asked after her health that day in the elevator?

He suddenly wanted to know. He wanted to know what it was that would've taken her from him in the end, had she survived the gun fight. He got unsteadily to his feet and tried to make it to the stairs, but when his vision blurred and his head spun, he just ended up stumbling and falling to the ground. He couldn't go to Ducky's like this, even in this state he knew he wouldn't make it. He dragged himself to his old couch in the basement and lay down, hoping that the faster he went to sleep, the faster he became sober, so he could get to NCIS and have Ducky tell him everything he knew about Jenny's illness.

-

Trent watched her grappling with Gregory, the only one in the safe house that was cleared to interact with her, and the only one that wouldn't hurt her intentionally, and felt his hopes rising again. Her injuries prevented her from getting out of most strangleholds and pinning's but she could fight off her attacker for a few minutes at least and intellectually he knew that that was all that she needed to be able to do to complete this mission. She was panting heavily and favouring her right side, pain and exhaustion clear in her movements, and it was obvious that for today she could do no more and trying to make her would be counterproductive. Time was called and the sparing partners across the room all parted and disappeared to get cleaned up. Jenny smiled happily at him when she approached, helped along by Gregory who was half holding her up and Trent almost rolled his eyes. This sibling façade was hard to keep up. She was always trying to get him to spend time with her, and he just wasn't confidant enough in his self control to stay in a room with her alone for long periods of time. He just might end up strangling her.

"Well? How did I do?"

"Very well Jennifer, you'll be back in the field in no time!" She gave him another bright smile before a sly look crossed her features. He knew what was coming; she wanted him to tell her who had shot her. He wanted to tell her and set his plan in motion, but he couldn't risk her remembering who this person was. When it was closer to the time to let her loose he would give her the name but until then, he would do no more than hint and try to make her hate them.

"Have I been good enough to hear who tried to kill me? I know you know who it is."

"I'm sorry Jennifer, but I can't tell you any more about them."

"You told me that the one who shot me had been a friend of mine."

"He was, but they are too powerful for you to go up against now. Their status in NCIS- argh! Jennifer, just forget about them until you are healed. Then I will not only tell you who they are, I'll take you to them." He said in mock exasperation. She nodded and walked away smiling, thinking that she had gotten him to talk and he chuckled once she was out of sight. Rene was right, she is relentless. He walked after her, hoping to hear her talking with Gregory and as he rounded the corner to her room, her voice floated out to him.

"…why he can't just tell me, don't I have a right to know?"

"Yes, but he is thinking about your health, while _you_ are just thinking about revenge."

"Who said anything about revenge?"

"Jennifer, this man was your friend; he helped us all locate our targets. Then one day he goes rogue and decides to kill whoever tries to stop him. He's got ties to Hamas, even has one of their insurgents working with him under the guise of a Mossad liaison. NCIS has no idea they have been infiltrated by them and that they are in danger, and you say you aren't thinking about revenge? "

"You're right. I am thinking about revenge. How could anyone turn traitor to their country? Or kill their friends?"

"Probably the same reason he did; money."

"When I catch up to him, he'll wish he'd made sure I was dead!" Her voice was strong and full of conviction and in that moment, Trent knew he had created the Avenging Angel he had been working on since she had messed up Lodestone. Vengeance would be so sweet!

-

Jenny had enjoyed grappling with Gregory, their fights always lasted longer because he was easy to overpower and she didn't need to expend too much energy while she was with him. She could strengthen her muscles over a longer period of time and it made for a more rewarding day. She wasn't as good at this as she was at shooting, but she figured that was because she didn't need to get close to her targets. She could feel her wounds stinging as she worked out, the muscles around them burning with the effort she was putting in to dodge Gregory. He had told her that she hadn't worked out until she could 'feel the burn', that was when her muscles were warm and being taxed, that was when her hard work would pay off. She was just hoping she didn't rip open one of her holes.

Time was called and she bent double, trying to catch her breath. She could definitely feel the burn, though it felt more like she had been hit and then run over by a steam roller. Gregory laughed at her and then walked over to her, wrapping one of her arms over his shoulder to hold her up and then he moved them towards her room. Trent was standing at the door of the training hall, watching with amusement and Jenny smiled at her brother, knowing he had been watching her progress. He gave her a look and just waited for them to approach him, as if he was expecting them to stand to attention. _Not gonna happen buddy_.

"Well? How did I do?"

"Very well Jennifer, you'll be back in the field in no time!" she smiled brighter at the rare praise from him and then thought of something. Since he was in such a nice mood she might be able to get something out of him.

"Have I been good enough to hear who tried to kill me? I know you know who it is."

"I'm sorry Jennifer, but I can't tell you any more about them." She internally sighed. If she was an assassin, why was he trying to shield her from betrayal? She killed spies and terrorists for a living; surely she knew how to handle treachery.

"You told me that the one who shot me had been a friend of mine."

"He was, but they are too powerful for you to go up against now. Their status in NCIS- argh! Jennifer, just forget about them until you are healed. Then I will not only tell you who they are, I'll take you to them." She smiled again at him and wandered down the corridor. She was going to hold him to that and she knew he knew it. She was frustrated though, why did he have to beat around the bush so much? The last smile had been false and completely for his benefit.

Sometimes she didn't believe that he was her brother. He was so distant with her for most of the day, only to come over and congratulate her later on. He was like her keeper, he just fed and watered her and waited for her to do something interesting. At times, she had caught him looking at her and he hadn't seemed to care about her at all, his eyes were so cold and unsympathetic, like he was watching a mouse sniff around a loaded trap. She felt a twinge of guilt as that thought floated around her head because the memory she held on to like a lifeline was that of when she had first opened her eyes. He had been so concerned for her and so upset about what had happened. The look in his eyes back when he heard she couldn't remember him, that was the one she imagined was what he was really feeling; the coldness was probably just a mask for everyone else to see. After all, she had only seen it when she was in the company of others. It still made her frustrated that he didn't seem to trust her though. She finally reached her room and Gregory helped her over to the bed.

"I don't understand why he does that, Greg. Why he can't just tell me, don't I have a right to know?"

"Yes, but he is thinking about your health, while _you_ are just thinking about revenge." Gregory was such a sweet person, but sometimes he could get on her nerves.

"Who said anything about revenge?" She bit her lip a little as she waited to hear it all pour out, everything that Trent hadn't told her that she knew Gregory knew too. He was too easy to manipulate really. She pasted an innocent look on her face and waited, knowing she wouldn't be disappointed.

"Jennifer, this man was your friend; he helped us all locate our targets. Then one day he goes rogue and decides to kill whoever tries to stop him. He's got ties to Hamas, even has one of their insurgents working with him under the guise of a Mossad liaison. NCIS has no idea they have been infiltrated by them and that they are in danger, and you say you aren't thinking about revenge? " she had listened to everything with increasing amounts of horror as Gregory told her how influential these people really were. Hamas? No wonder Trent was worried about her blundering in without training, she'd be dog food in minutes.

"You're right. I am thinking about revenge. How could anyone turn traitor to their country? Or kill their friends?"

"Probably the same reason he did; money." _Money_. What a reason to kill your friends. Her blood boiled at the thought that one or more of the people she knew had shot her because they were more concerned over the little green paper representations of the gold bullion in Americas vault than anything else. How pathetic were these people? Her revulsion at their motivation quickly evolved in to loathing. She would catch up to those traitors, and when she did, they would pray for a quick death.

"When I find him, he'll wish he'd made sure I was dead!" She hoped Trent would give her his name soon, because she would love to get her hands on the one that had ruined her life and was currently endangering other people. She staggered up from the bed and asked Gregory to leave. She needed to shower and rest, and then she would try to get Trent to talk.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Jethro walked quickly into the empty autopsy room. It was always so cold down here, but this time it felt positively arctic. He shivered and looked around in the semi darkness, looking for Ducky. He spotted him out of the corner of his eye, beckoning him over.

"Why have you called me down, Duck? We have no active cases."

"Actually Jethro, we do. There is one that remains unfinished." The Doctors eyes reflected a sorrow so great, that Gibbs had to look away first for once.

"What do you mean? I already submitted all our case reports to the Director." Ducky gave him a disgusted look and corrected him.

"To Vance."

"If there is something important, you should tell me now." He was getting angry now. What was Ducky doing?

Ducky merely outstretched an arm and pointed towards the empty autopsy tables. Jethro turned to see what he was pointing at and jumped back in shock. A black body bag was laid out on one of the tables. Gibbs looked around the room, wondering how Palmer had got in and out with it so quietly, and then disappeared without his noticing. He shook his head and began to slowly walk towards it, wondering what the eccentric doctor could be showing him. He mustn't have even begun the autopsy if the body was still zipped up.

"You haven't even done the autopsy, Duck." He turned back to the doctor in time to see him drop his head in shame.

"I couldn't, Jethro." Thoroughly confused, Gibbs turned back to the bag.

He got close enough to read the name tag and turned it over in his fingers. _Jennifer Shepard_. Jethro recoiled from the bag, his heart beating wildly and his mind rejecting the possibility that what he was seeing was real. It couldn't be true, but the body bag was laying there, Jenny inside, waiting for him to open it, waiting for him to say goodbye. He found his feet had walked him closer to the body all of their own accord, and he reluctantly reached out a hand to the zip, slowly pulling it around the head. He couldn't peel back the flap though, no matter how hard he tried. He glanced up at Ducky, and realised he was holding a small tube of blood in his hands and Jethro watched, mesmerised, as he cursed at it and threw it on the ground in front of him. As the glass smashed and the blood spilled over the floor, there was an ear shattering scream and the body in the bag sat up, Jenny's bloody hands reaching out for Gibbs.

Jethro violently woke up from his nightmare; face down on his couch with a splitting headache. It felt like a little sadist was stabbing the back of his eyes with a needle whilst jumping up and down in lead boots. Every ragged breath he drew brought a mouthful of dust with it from the age-old furniture, and as a result of his bad dream he felt like he had run a marathon and couldn't catch his breath. He wheezed as a coughing fit hit him, some of the dust leaving his lungs in the phlegm that was brought up in his mouth. Disgusted, he made his way up the stairs as quickly as he could, walking into the kitchen to spit it in the sink and then wash it away. He leaned against the sink when he was finished, closing his eyes tightly, trying to remember what it was that he had wanted to do yesterday, whilst trying to erase the dream from his mind. It had something to do with Ducky, and he knew that because his nightmare had reminded him that he'd wanted to go see him, but the elusive memory of why wouldn't come any closer.

He sighed in temporary defeat and then made his way up to the bathroom, to take care of his bladder and hygiene. He scrubbed his teeth twice after having a shower, not wanting the stale alcohol to be picked up on by any of his team. He dressed and made his way down the stairs and out of the house, driving quickly to the Star Bucks where his regular coffee order was waiting for him, and one for DiNozzo, and then he drove to the navy yard. As he walked towards the elevator, he saw a red-head just stepping in. It was like he had strayed in to another dream, her familiar high heels and fashion sense made his heart jump into his throat and he sprinted to the elevator, catching the doors just in time. His head pounded in time with his pulse as they slid back open to reveal a slightly astonished… stranger.

It felt like a wrecking ball had slammed in to his chest, leaving him winded. The lady asked him something but he couldn't hear her, the loss hitting him hard. He couldn't get on the car with her, it would be torture, but if he walked away it would be a bad reflection on him. The whole building would hear of it, and then Ducky would start asking questions about his emotional state. He tried to give her a smile and moved stiffly in to the elevator, hitting his floor and retreating into a corner. He closed his eyes tightly, his whole body tensing like a coiled spring as he tried to tell himself to breathe deeply, to calm down. To not let the imposter in front of him affect him. It didn't work.

Jenny was dead. She wasn't coming back, he should just accept it but he couldn't, somehow it just didn't seem possible. There was a part of him that simply refused to give her up for dead, that still believed she would walk into the room he was in and ask for a case report, or offer him a glass of Bourbon. Whenever someone said 'Director', his mind supplied the 'Shepard' that they should have said after, rather than 'Vance'.

He heard the elevator ding and opened his eyes to see the woman getting off on the floor below his. Good. He needed a few minutes to himself. The second the elevator began moving again, he flicked the emergency stop. The lights went out, leaving only the emergency light illuminating the small box. He stood the tray of coffee on the floor, amazed that it had survived the sprint for the elevator, and then he leaned against the back of the lift and rubbed his eyes with his fists. He couldn't take this, it was too much. He saw her in every red-head, in every coffee shop, in every room of NCIS. He couldn't get her out of his head and truthfully, he didn't want to. He knew what he was supposed to do, it was the same thing the shrink had told him to do after Shannon and Kelly. He needed to come to peace with the fact that she was dead, that he couldn't save her and he needed to move on. Well he couldn't. He had loved Shannon with all his heart, but he was _in_ love with Jenny, with all of his _being_. He had always figured it was a girl thing to believe in soul mates, but then he had met Jenny, and he just knew she was his. That was why it hurt so much to know she would have died anyway.

Gibbs' eyes shot open as he realised what he had just thought, what it was that he had wanted to see Ducky about; her illness. He flicked the emergency stop and the elevator came back to life, and he picked up the tray of coffee. He allowed it to go to the bullpen so he could drop off the coffee and let his team know he was in so they wouldn't send out a search party. The doors opened and he stepped out, making his way to his desk. He looked around and realised that his team wasn't in the bullpen. Their personal belongings were behind their desks but they were nowhere to be seen. He put the coffee he had bought for Tony on his desk and sat behind his own, waiting for them to reappear. He didn't need to wait long as they all plodded dejectedly out of Jenny's office, which Vance had stolen. Gibbs quickly put his desk phone speaker on and ducked out of their line of sight, taking his coffee with him and lifting his phone to his ear. His team didn't disappoint him as they began speaking about the meeting as soon as they got behind their desks.

"_I cannot believe the nerve of that man! Who does he think he is?!"_

"_Our Director, Ziva."_

"_Really McGee? I did not know that meant we have to betray Gibbs' confidence. Jenny would never-"_ Tony's angry voice interrupted her.

"_Jenny's dead, Ziva! Vance is our new Director so that means we do as he says. He wants to know if Gibbs is incapable of working or coming to work drunk, so if he is-"_ Irritated at his duplicity, Ziva interrupted him

"_We what? Tattle on him to that-"_ Tony moved over to be face to face with Ziva so they didn't need to shout across the bullpen.

"_No! We bring him coffee to hide the smell, and hide him in autopsy if he's ever drunk."_

"_What Vance doesn't know?"_ McGee suggested.

"_Exactly."_ They all agreed and then Tony noticed the coffee on his desk. _"Coffee; Gibbs is in."_

Gibbs knew that Tony would know what he was doing. He had after all, begun doing the same thing when he had been away on his so called 'Margarita Safari'. He flicked his cell closed and walked towards the elevator, catching DiNozzo's eye and giving him a nod of thanks. Tony returned the gesture and sat down to work over the cold cases they had to work on when they had no active cases. Gibbs knew he wouldn't tell the others that their conversation had been overheard, he would just pride himself on the decision he had made. Jethro smiled to himself and stepped on the elevator to take him to autopsy. When he arrived he looked around the room and saw Ducky writing up a report on his computer.

"Duck, I need to talk to you." Ducky turned around and stood up. "Do you have a minute?"

"Of course Jethro. Speak." He leaned back against his desk and waited.

"I need to know something. What was killing Jenny?"

"Oh, Jethro…"

"Duck I need to understand why she went to that desert. It was certain death!"

"It was a degenerative disease. I don't know what exactly, she only asked for a confirmation of certain symptoms from a blood sample." Gibbs froze, his nightmare coming back and hitting him full force.

_~*He glanced up at Ducky, and realised he was holding a small tube of blood in his hands and Jethro watched, mesmerised as he cursed at it and threw it on the ground in front of him.*~_

"Jethro? Is something wrong?" Ducky's face was full of concern; he reached out a hand and steadied Gibbs as he nearly fell back in shock.

"I want to see the results of that test."

"Jethro, please don't do this to yourself."

"Duck, please? It's really important." Ducky sighed and then walked in to the back room and returned a few moments later with a piece of paper. He walked back to Gibbs and held out the paper. Jethro took it and looked over it. It made no sense to him however. Ducky moved around so he could see the paper too.

"These spikes show a large increase of Creatine Kinase and another few chemicals in her body. They prove that she had the disease that she thought she had."

"Actually, it shows that she's been taking tons of drugs to cause those symptoms." Both men jumped and spun around as Abby's voice sounded over their shoulders. She grinned at them, a look of pure innocence on her face. "Whoever that test belongs to probably doesn't know what way is up. Did we catch a case?"


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Gregory and Fiona.

"You been practicing sneaking up, Abs?" Her bright sunrise smile was all the answer Gibbs needed.

"McGee said you had disappeared. So when you didn't come to see me, I figured you'd be down here with Ducky, so I decided to come see you and head you off at the Caf-Pow machine." She looked at him critically and then pouted. "You're not carrying a Caf-Pow. The machine's not broken, is it?"

"No Abs I'm sure it's not. Here, take this and get yourself one. I'll come up soon." Gibbs took some notes out of his wallet and passed them to Abby, who was out of the door the second her fingers clutched the paper. He was glad she hadn't recognised the test as the one she had suspected Ducky to be running on himself. Once she was on the lift, he turned back to Ducky, who had stood rooted to the spot since Abby's revelation.

"I gave her the wrong information. Abby is right. These clearly show that she had been taking them a lot…" he traced some of the smaller spikes as he said it. "These levels show long-term build up. Months or more."

"No you didn't. She asked for a confirmation of the symptoms and that is what you gave her. I wonder why Abby didn't see what she just pointed out to us, the first time she saw it."

"She thought it was mine, Jethro. She was upset and worried, and more than likely only gave it a cursory glance."

"Then what I really want to know is this; how was someone drugging Jenny for that long without her knowing?"

"Simple, by spiking something she was guaranteed to have. Coffee, a sandwich from a certain shop-" as Ducky listed things she had brought in to work a lot, it suddenly clicked in Jethro's mind.

"Bourbon. She had some at home and work." Ducky nodded excitedly.

"We'll need a sample." Gibbs shoulders lowered a little as he realised he had destroyed her house.

"Her house was burned down, Duck, so there won't be anything we can get from there." Ducky nodded but then brightened, he wasn't to be dissuaded.

"Her office then. Leon enjoys a tipple now and again. It's only been three weeks; he may still have her Bourbon up there."

Gibbs nodded, trying not to think of the eight bottles he had managed to get through over the last three weeks, and they both turned to leave autopsy and caught the lift up to Leon's office. They said nothing on the journey up, just content to be figuring out what had happened to one that they had loved, each in their own way. The doors opened and they walked as fast as they dared, without attracting attention. They reached Cynthia's office and walked over to her. She knew everything about the Director's office. She looked up in surprise as they approached her and moved to hit the intercom to tell Leon he had visitors. Gibbs grabbed her hand just in time.

----

"We aren't here to see Leon. We want to see you." Cynthia glanced nervously between the two men in front of her, her confusion evident on her face. She couldn't think of anything that she had done, to warrant them coming to speak to her. Was Vance upset with her work? She pushed her concerns out of her mind.

"Ok, what can I do for you?" Jethro looked at Ducky, who closed the outer door and stood by it.

"I need to know if you can get me some of Jenny's Bourbon, from in there." He pointed roughly to the office. She was shocked to hear that particular request. Couldn't he buy his own?

"I'm sorry Agent Gibbs, I can't-" he cut her off, aggravated by her reticence to help him.

"Yes you can! Just make something up to get him out of his office for a few moments-"

"I said 'can't' Agent Gibbs, not 'won't'. Director Vance poured it all down the sink when he took over her office. He even threw out the decanter she used." Gibbs and Ducky exchanged significant glances and Cynthia realised she was missing something important. "What is this about?"

"It's nothing Cynthia." Both he and Ducky moved towards the door, Gibbs opening it. They weren't going to tell her! She felt her irritation take over her and she called out after him, effectively stopping him from opening the door further.

"I managed to get a hold of the glass she drank it from, before Vance took over her office. I sealed it in an evidence bag; it's in the condition she left it in." Gibbs closed the door and turned back to her, looking at her like she was offering him the Holy Grail. She felt the need to explain when Dr. Mallard raised an eyebrow at her. "Since her house was burned down, I knew I wouldn't get any other kind of keepsake. If you want it, you'll have to tell me what's going on." He gave her an annoyed look, but she didn't back down. Not this time. "And you have to keep me in the loop."

"Where is it?"

"Do we have a deal?"

"Yes. Now where is it?"

Cynthia nodded and then moved her chair back, pulling out her keys and opening her bottom drawer. Then she withdrew a little strong box. She unlocked it carefully and reached inside, taking out the promised glass inside an evidence bag. She took a deep breath and held it out to Gibbs. He snatched it from her and took off towards the elevators.

"I'll get it back, right?" she called after him. Ducky gave her a reassuring wink and then took off after Gibbs.

Cynthia sighed and locked her box, putting it back in the drawer and locking it too. She wouldn't let Gibbs keep it that was all she had of Jenny, her only reminder of her boss and friend and she needed it back. She had just got back to work when Leon poked his head out of Jenny's office. It would always be Jenny's office to her. Vance wasn't a bad employer, but he was just… cold. Jenny had always been so warm and kind.

"Ms Sumner, call Agent McGee up to my office."

"Yes Director." He gave a curt nod and disappeared back in the office. She shuddered, he was so annoying sometimes. He wouldn't leave until she called him Director. Jenny hadn't cared if she called her Director or Jenny, unless someone from outside NCIS was waiting to see her. She placed the call to Agent McGee and showed him in when he nervously appeared moments later. She really missed Jenny; she wished she would just turn up and tell her Leon's appointment had been a huge administrative mistake, that she was still Director and would be coming back to work with her. She felt a stray tear fall down her cheek and wiped it away angrily. No matter how much she hoped, she knew that Jenny wasn't coming back. If she really did turn up at work like she hoped, she would be a rotting corpse. Not a happy thought, but then the reality was that life isn't fair. She turned back to her computer. She would go find out what Gibbs and Dr. Mallard were up to as soon as Leon left for lunch.

----

Jenny dodged Gregory again and almost laughed at his exhausted face. She was just as tired if not more so, but she wasn't going to show it. She knocked his arms away and danced further away from him, walking the edge of the mats. She had had fun today. Her time at the shooting range had been short because she had aced every test they had thought of for her. It felt so natural to be holding a gun that she figured she must've been born holding one. Trent had been very supportive of her, even going so far as to tell her she would be trying knife throwing next. She wasn't sure about that activity, it seemed too alien to her. She would probably fail that one. Gregory took another swing while she was distracted, narrowly missing her nose and suddenly she was in a darkened city.

A faceless man was by her side and they were creeping down an alleyway. It smelt of stale garbage, the humid air making it cling to their skin and clothes. It was a silent night and they moved like ghosts, quickly and quietly, the only sound whatsoever being the faceless mans' heavy breathing. They walked further along the alley and came to a corner, coming face to face with a couple of astonished guards who were holding guns. They took their guns out and pointed them at them. The faceless man next to her reacted like lightning, kicking the gun from one guards' hand and then knocking him over on to his back. She copied his movements exactly without hesitation, kicking the gun away from the other guard and then kicking him on to his back. She kneeled on his chest and caught the faceless man's eyes, his blue connecting with her green as they simultaneously wrapped their arms around their victims' heads and twisted them, snapping their necks and quieting them forever. Suddenly, she felt something hit her and she slipped into blackness.

----

Trent watched Jennifer grappling; once again she was paired with Gregory, who was putting up a decent fight but still being creamed. Her muscles were getting stronger already. The physio he had made Gregory give her during the previous two weeks had paid off. She was responding to the exertion well and her body was getting stronger. He had let her shoot again that morning and she had aced it once again. She hadn't even hesitated this time, causing him some reason to be concerned. In the next few days he would reveal the rest of his plan and put it in motion, he couldn't wait any longer. She was giving him odd looks which told him she was remembering things that didn't add up with what he had told her.

He watched her now as she spun on the spot and roundhouse kicked Gregory to the ground, kneeling on his chest when he fell and then she grasped his head. Her eyes were blank and staring, like she was lost in a memory and Trent recognised the execution technique used on enemy sentries. He was about to go help Gregory when one of the other people who had been sparing near her, Fiona, kicked her off of Gregory and pinned her to the ground. Jenny went completely limp and Trent walked over as Fiona called out to her partner.

"She's lost consciousness. Get a medic!"

Fiona's sparring partner ran towards the medics' room and Trent reached out to help Gregory up.

"What the hell happened?" Trent was very annoyed. If she had suddenly regained all her memories he would have to get rid of her, destroying the last three weeks of hard work. Gregory took a deep ragged breath, the fear only now receding from his eyes.

"The suppressants you give her have caused unexpected problems. The suppressant actively tries to prevent a memory from resurfacing but, like the one she just had, it can be too strong to stop. This causes her brain to focus itself on the memory, trapping her in it until it is over. I can only guess that once it _is_ over, she loses consciousness because of the strain it has put on her brain." _*__1__* _Trent nodded and decided to re-evaluate his plans.

"If she is still under the impression I am her brother, I will take her back to DC tomorrow. It's time to put my plan into action."

"If she isn't?" Trent shrugged slightly, a smirk crossing his features.

"If the memory suppressant doesn't work, I'll take care of her. She doesn't need to be alive to draw them to us."

_*__1__*_ = I'm not a doctor or a neurologist so I don't actually know if this is true, or if it can in fact, happen at all.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The trees began to disappear as the car sped into city traffic, the roads lined with buildings and sidewalks, rather than the fields, trees and hedges that they had been passing for the last few hours. Jenny Kort looked out the window in amazement at the architecture of the city. It was beautiful. This was her first car ride since losing her memory and she was enthralled. All of the sights and sounds were so familiar and yet so alien to her. She glanced at Trent, who was driving the car with Gregory in the passenger seat. He had been acting so strange when she had awoken, asking her questions about what her memory was and if she remembered he was her brother. There had been emotions flittering across Trent's face, specifically fear and anger, why and at what she could only guess. Maybe he was scared she would forget him and angry that he couldn't help her if she did. Whatever the reason, it had disappeared once she had assured him that she was fine, that her memory was just the same as it had been before the 'incident', and that she had just remembered getting into a fight alongside a faceless man. He had been placated, though he had ordered a transfer to another safe house in DC, somewhere closer to headquarters. Gregory had told her that her injuries had caused problems in her memory centre resulting in an infection that they hadn't told her about. He had said that the medicine they were giving her wasn't strong enough to combat it, so they had had to up the dosage to a syringe per day. Jenny's brow furrowed as she tried to recall the time she had awoken, and she realised she could only remember some details; the rest was a fuzzy mess in her mind. Was that the effect of the infection?

She shook her head and willed her heart rate to stay regular. The last thing she wanted to do was panic and make Trent worry, so she decided to focus on the strange memory that she'd had before being rendered unconscious. When she had described the events for Trent, she had omitted the part about the man's eyes for some reason. She wasn't sure why, but she just wanted to keep that detail to herself. She smiled to herself as she resumed watching the city fly by, past the window. She had felt such a thrill looking into those eyes, or more accurately, she remembered feeling the thrill. Now that she had remembered it though, she couldn't stop thinking about it. Who was that man? Why was she sneaking around with him at night, killing armed men? Why did his eyes enchant her with such… sensual delight? Whoever he was, she wanted to know where he was now. Surely such a connection between two people wouldn't just disappear. Did he miss her? Was he even alive? She sighed, those blue eyes created more questions than she had memories, but if there was one thing she was sure of, it was her determination to find answers.

"We'll be arriving in about half an hour. Anything seem familiar to you?" Trent watched her in the rear-view mirror and she shrugged apologetically. The trees were lovely, the buildings were amazing, but nothing had jogged any memories so far.

"No. Maybe when we get the chance you could take me on a tour of the city." She suggested half heartedly. He usually avoided spending long periods of time around her for some reason she couldn't fathom. It was hurtful to see him so uncaring about her unless she was getting closer to mission readiness.

"I think that can be arranged. How about tonight? I'll show you a few landmarks and then we can check out the houses of your targets." She looked at him owlishly, not sure she had heard him correctly. He grinned a little to her and a bright smile lit up her face. Maybe she was wrong about Trent, he really did care.

"That would be great, thank you!" she turned back to look out the window and watch the morning commute, now content to wait for the day's end, and an enjoyable time with her brother.

--

Jethro carried the glass down to autopsy, where he and Ducky prepared themselves for what was to come from their clandestine investigation. As soon as the elevator doors opened, they dashed out and into Ducky's domain. Luckily for them Palmer still hadn't returned from his peculiarly lengthy jaunt in the toilets. Ducky pulled out evidence jars and swabs, while Jethro put some rubber gloves on and then opened the bag, the smell of Bourbon and Jenny's perfume hitting his nose almost immediately like a punch in the face, making him take a deep breath. The smell he only found in his dreams, the one he so desperately needed to smell again, and here it was, emanating from a small, innocuous glass. He tried to shake off the need to keep breathing it in, but his loneliness spurred him on. This was the only tenuous connection he had with Jenny, besides the Bourbon, and he wanted to keep it. Ducky cleared his throat, jolting Gibbs from his pained thoughts and causing him to glare at the elderly man reproachfully. Ducky gave him a sympathetic, but unyielding look and gestured to the glass.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Jethro?" Gibbs didn't respond.

Jethro steeled himself against the scent and carefully withdrew the glass from the evidence bag, placing it on the table and then moving over slightly to allow Ducky to get closer to the glass. The older man swabbed the rim of the glass and put it in a jar, and then he took out another and swabbed the bottom of the glass. He labelled both jars and then allowed Jethro to regretfully put the glass back in its bag with no comment.

"No point in taking fingerprints, he would have put it in the decanter and let her drink it at her own pace." Ducky looked at the glass sadly, she never had a chance.

"I'll take these to Abby." Gibbs straightened suddenly and grasped the jars and moved swiftly to the doors, only to be stopped by Ducky's question.

"What are you going to tell her?" Jethro stopped short.

"Wasn't planning on telling her anything. I'll just say we caught a case." Ducky sighed and shook his head.

"Jennifer's DNA is in and on that glass, which means it will be in the swabs you'll be taking to her. She'll find it and try to impress you by giving you a DNA match, even if you don't ask for one."

"I'll think of something."

Jethro walked away from autopsy and back into the elevator, selecting the floor Abby's lab is on and then waiting impatiently for his stop. Luckily it was the floor above autopsy, so he quickly made his way into Abby's lab, smiling at her when she spun around in the middle of the lab, Caf-Pow in hand.

"Hey Gibbs. You said you would be up in a few minutes. It's been ages! Oh! I don't have anything for you. Not that you gave me anything to get..." Gibbs held up the jars and Abby fixed her eyes on them quizzically.

"I need to know everything about these. I don't want anything from the DNA, though. Ignore it completely Abs and call me when you have something, ok?" Abby took the jars, a little confused, and resolved to not give in to temptation and do a DNA test, you know, if she found any.

"Ok the tests shouldn't take too long. Which case is it? The guys didn't know anything upstairs."

"Private case Abs, a friend needs a favour."

"Is it related to those results you and Ducky were looking at downstairs?"

Gibbs' gaze hardened and he simply walked out of Abby's lab, throwing "Call me as soon as you have something!" over his shoulder, leaving a very confused Goth holding a couple of mystery jars.

--

Cynthia sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. The computer screen in front of her was beginning to give her snow blindness. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms over her head, relishing the relief it gave her muscles and the sharp cracks her shoulders gave at having been stiff for so long. Agent McGee had been in Vance's office for quite a while, their voices drifted out to her occasionally and she wasn't happy with what she heard. Apparently Vance had singled McGee out as the weak one and was trying to force information out of him 'for the good of the agency'. He was appealing to the computer tech's logical mind to try and give him cause to tell on his team without thinking it was a bad thing, but so far McGee had resisted. He was standing strong with his team and its leader and Cynthia couldn't help but smile at his loyalty. Now she didn't usually do this, but she wanted to hear what was going on, so she engaged the speaker on the intercom so she could listen. Her smile faltered when Vance's next words drifted out of it to her.

"Gibbs is a loose cannon Agent McGee, he is reckless and sooner or later someone will get hurt. Do you want Ms Scuito to get hurt? Or Officer David?"

"No Director, but-"

"Because they will be hurt by his actions. Do you want to be here to help them if something does happen?"

"Yes, of course Director-"

"Because you won't be if you allow him to harm others. I want you to go back to work and think about what I just said."

Cynthia quickly disengaged the speaker and began tapping away at her keyboard. The door was flung open in a manner Gibbs would be proud of, and McGee stormed out of the office positively vibrating with rage, followed closely by Vance.

"I'm going for my lunch now Ms Sumner." He walked swiftly past her and she let out a deep, unsteady breath. She didn't know what his game was, but it wasn't going to work in this agency! She stood up and locked her computer, then walked along the catwalk towards the elevator. Gibbs wasn't down in the bullpen, which was odd. she shook her head and stepped in to the lift. She wanted to know what Gibbs was doing with her glass, it had been quite a while since he had taken it. She stepped off the elevator at Abby's lab and walked in, taking her time so she didn't startle the often hyper woman.

"Abby?" The Goth jumped and spun around, her pigtails flying and a huge grin on her face.

"Cynthia! What brings you down here?"

"I just wondered if Agent Gibbs had finished with my glass yet."

"Erm, your glass?" Abby looked at her confused, her head tilted to the side as she considered what she had heard.

"Yes, my keepsake. It was Jenny's, he wanted it for some reason, well, and he wanted the bourbon. He wasn't upstairs so I thought he would be here…" Abby's stricken face brought Cynthia's sentence to an abrupt halt. The young woman turned swiftly and began tapping away on her keyboard. Cynthia moved forwards and looked at the screen over her shoulder, watching as Abby began a DNA comparison. There wasn't even a flash of pictures since Abby knew who she wanted the sample compared to. The computer beeped and the words 'Positive match 100%' flashed on the screen before Jenny's picture opened up. Abby stood back and simply stared at the screen, her eyes fixed on the picture, her hands curling into fists. Cynthia closed her eyes and sighed softly, Gibbs had obviously decided to not tell Abby what he was doing.

"The test results, they were Jenny's." her eyes widened as she realised something and she began to well up. "They were _always_ Jenny's, that's where I've seen them before. Ducky lied to me… Gibbs lied." One of her other machines dinged and she swooped down on it, pressing buttons and withdrawing a printout. "The drugs were in her Bourbon." Cynthia's brow creased in confusion.

"What drugs?" Abby turned to her and wafted the paper in her vague direction.

"These drugs, the ones that made her think she was dying!" Cynthia took the paper and looked at them, only to jump out of her skin when a voice sounded over her shoulder.

"What have you got Abs?" Gibbs strode into the lab and glared at Cynthia, thinking she had made Abby cry.

"Trust issues!!" Abby shouted, tears streaming down her face, and then she stomped into her office, sealing the glass doors behind her. Gibbs turned to look at Cynthia angrily.

"What are you doing here? What's wrong with Abby?" Cynthia bristled at his tone.

"I just came to see if you were done with my glass and then Abby started talking about drugs in Bourbon that made her think she was dying or something- hey!"

Gibbs snatched the printout from Cynthia's grasp and looked it over, nodding at the results. _The nerve of that man!_ He turned on his heel and stormed out of the lab, towards the elevator. Cynthia gritted her teeth, willing herself not to get angry, that was just how Gibbs was, and then she ran after him, just catching the lift in time. He ignored her presence and she decided to stay quiet, just in case. The last thing she needed was to be enclosed in a small space with him while he shouted at her. The elevator opened at Autopsy and they both walked in, Gibbs handing the paper to a nervously pacing Ducky, and Cynthia retrieving her glass from his desk. Ducky gazed at the paper and he sighed sharply.

"Ah, it is as we feared Jethro. It was in the bourbon." Gibbs nodded.

"Well, who would want her to think she was dying? Who would have the means to do all this?" He would find who did this to her and they would pay.

"A doctor. Some of these drugs are prescription only. This person must be near to a supply of them for him to have been drugging her for so long."

"A doctor." Gibbs suddenly thought of something. "When she realised something was wrong with her, did she come straight to you?"

"No. She came to me for a second opinion."

"Who would she have gone to for the first?"

"A neurologist." The wheels in Jethro's head began to turn. _She just so happened to know a neurologist, didn't she?_

"Like the neurologist who was assigned to me after my amnesia? Todd Gelfand?" Cynthia nodded, following the line of Gibbs' thoughts.

"She did mention going to see Todd for an appointment a few weeks before her death. I thought she meant a dinner appointment. He never came to the office though and he's dead now, isn't he? I saw it on the news."

"Yeah, he was shot in the head three weeks ago." Gibbs replied dejectedly. His one lead was dead and he had no witness to place him near Jenny's Bourbon. Fantastic. Ducky however looked like the cat that got the cream.

"Three weeks ago? So, around the same time as Jennifer's death. An odd coincidence." He arched an eyebrow and Gibbs nodded excitedly. _Coincidence, my ass_.

"Can you get the autopsy reports for Todd?"

"Yes, I'll get Jennifer's too." Gibbs froze and drew his brows together, his eyes widening in incredulity. He had to close them as another part of his nightmare came back to haunt him.

_~*"You haven't even done the autopsy, Duck." He turned back to the doctor in time to see him drop his head in shame._

"_I couldn't, Jethro."*~_

"You didn't do her autopsy, Duck?" He opened his eyes and watched in equal parts of horror and hope, as Ducky dropped his head in shame.

"No. I couldn't, Jethro. I couldn't cut up Jennifer; her body was transferred to a private medical examiner that Director Vance knows. I got a copy of the report though." Gibbs tried to shake off the remnants of his nightmare, but no matter what he did, the last part kept coming back to him.

_~*As the glass smashed and the blood spilled over the floor, there was an ear shattering scream and the body in the bag sat up, Jenny's bloody hands reaching out for Gibbs.*~_

It was impossible for her to still be alive, but his mind wouldn't let the possibility rest until he had proved there was no way. He swallowed hard and shook his head to try and clear it. If Ducky could get the report, he may be able to see her face, and _know_ that she was dead.

"Are there pictures in the report?"

"Yes Jethro."

"How soon can you get them?"

"If I am very charming, it may take a few hours. At the latest, I may be able to get it by tomorrow morning." Gibbs grinned at him and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Be charming."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

It was five hours after Jethro had left Ducky with instructions to get the autopsy reports for Jenny and Todd Gelfand, and Gibbs was sitting at his desk glaring up at the Directors office. Cynthia had told him about Vance's conversation with McGee, and so he had sought the young man out to talk about it, and tell him his loyalty was appreciated. Well, he had seen the young Computer tech unable to speak for nerves before, who hadn't? However, he had never seen him unable to speak from anger. The young man had spent a good few minutes trying to describe Vance in a way that conveyed his fury, but wasn't obscene. In the end, Gibbs had let him go for an extended lunch to cool down, and he still wasn't back yet. He couldn't blame him really. What Vance had apparently said about him and how he would hurt Abby and Ziva with his recklessness was making his own blood boil, never mind the veiled threat to McGee's job. This was one of those times were he hoped Vance would give him a reason to shoot him, because he would do it without hesitation. He shook his head sadly; he had already upset Abby by telling her to test the swabs of bourbon, without telling her that it was Jenny's. He had gone to see her, had even brought a Caf-Pow with him, but she had sealed the doors to her inner lab and had been hugging her hippo and ignoring him. Her tear stained face had been glued to her computer screen and the pictures of the team including Jenny, from the first (and last) Halloween party she had been allowed to organise. Jethro had been there, McGee's dog had taken a shine to Jenny and she had been gushing over it with Abby for most of the night. They were some of the last pictures taken of her prior to her death.

A couple of folders suddenly slammed down on his desk and he looked up, shocked that he hadn't heard Ducky's approach. Surely he wasn't losing his touch so badly that even an old friend could sneak up on him? He could usually sense when someone he knew was close, the sound of their footfalls gave away more information than people realised, and yet this time Ducky had been able to walk casually right up to his desk without him noticing. The M.E. grinned down at him and tapped on the folders, drawing his attention to the name 'Dr. Todd Gelfand' which was on the top, and Gibbs suppressed the urge to move it so he could see Jenny's beneath.

"Five hours Jethro, how about that?" Gibbs returned his smile and chuckled.

"You'll sprain something one of these days by being so charming." Ducky straightened his bowtie and leaned towards Gibbs so he could whisper conspiratorially.

"Dr. Hampton and I are anticipating a rather pleasant evening in Palena's tomorrow night." Gibbs grinned and stood, clapping his friend on the shoulder in congratulation and picked up the folders.

"How about we keep autopsy business down in autopsy?" Ducky nodded in agreement and they walked to the elevator, taking it down to his domain. The ride was quiet, no words necessary since both knew that the answers to their questions lay in the two file's Gibbs was clutching tight to his chest. Jethro's heart seemed to have relocated to his head, the beat loud and irregular in his ears and his throat seemed dry. Anticipation of finding out his hopes were well founded was consuming him and he struggled to tell himself he could be wrong. His gut wasn't infallible, and he wasn't even sure if it _was_ his gut telling him she was alive, it could just be wishful thinking, brought on by a horrific nightmare, a nightmare which just happened to have elements of truth to it that he wasn't aware of until after he'd had it. Upon entering the empty room, they walked over to Ducky's desk and the older man sat, pulling the folders in front of him. Gibbs watched him look between the two and he reached over Ducky, flipping open Todd's first, his courage to look at Jenny's failing him, and Ducky began to read through it.

"Alright… hmm… Ok, he had begun to decompose by the time the authorities found him, in fact he was tracked down by a dog, which ran off the lead and started to scratch at the garage door. Its owner was able to smell the decay once he got close enough and called the police." Gibbs rolled his eyes in slight irritation and cut him off.

"Interesting Duck, but how did he die?" Ducky, who was far too used to being interrupted by Gibbs to let it bother him, answered him promptly.

"A single gunshot wound to the head. Death was instantaneous." Ducky pulled out a close up picture of the bullet hole and Gibbs swallowed reflexively. It didn't bother him, death and decay, but he had known this guy. To see him so… rotted was disturbing. Ducky inhaled sharply and then pulled out a pile of pictures looking through until he found one of the man's hands. He studied them, but there was nothing to see. "Oh, I could have sworn…" he dropped his hands and looked at Gibbs. "The bullet wound is in exactly the same place as the one that killed La Grenouille and Jasper Shepard. The same type of gun, too, although there was no bullet or casing. The entire place was said to be spotless. Unfortunately this one has no bruise on the hand. It's very likely that he was killed by the same person, though the lack of bruise is interesting."

"It's a disarming move Duck, he was a doctor. I seriously doubt that he was armed." Jethro was disturbed by the thought that the same gun had killed La Grenouille and Todd; after all, it was Jenny's gun. Ducky nodded.

"I don't think La Grenouille was armed either, but the bruise was still there. I think it is more of a pre-emptive strike. They cannot move or retaliate once they have been thumb tapped. The doctor is the only one that I think couldn't defend himself through other means so it wasn't necessary."

"So a simple distraction would have done the same job."

"Exactly, and what better to distract a doctor with, then a patient?" He lifted an eyebrow and Gibbs' furrowed.

"You think he was there to look after someone and was killed for his trouble?" Ducky inclined his head slightly.

"I think it is a very real possibility that there is someone out there that is or was injured, and hasn't been found yet."

"We may have a kidnapping on our hands or an injured gang member, and Todd was killed to keep him quiet either way." Ducky sighed and closed Todd's file, swapping it for the one underneath.

"Yes. Now on to Jennifer's report. Are you sure-?" Gibbs cut off his question, tired of hearing it.

"Yes Ducky, I'm sure."

"Very well." He opened it and read over it, nodding. "All of the information is correct."

"Did they find evidence of the drugs? Or an illness?" Ducky's mouth made an 'o' and he flipped around, looking for any mention of either. When his mouth set in a grim line Gibbs felt he already knew what he was going to say, but his rapidly beating heart wanted him to say it anyway. When Ducky replied, his voice was hard, anger dripping from his sentence.

"It says here that they found a tumour the size of a golf ball in her brain." Jethro's eyes met Ducky's, their mutual rage at the false information written in the report, that they had already disproved, simmering beneath the surface.

"An M.E. that Vance knows? Can I look at the pictures Duck?"

"Just because they lied on the report about her illness doesn't mean she isn't dead. Anthony and Ziva both saw her body, Jethro." Gibbs ignored his words and picked up the pictures, walking over to an empty autopsy table to arrange them in a body shape. He worked in silence, with Ducky rearranging the ones he put in the wrong place, until they had an almost complete body.

"No head, Duck?"

"It would appear not, Jethro. I assume they didn't want the press to get a hold of the report or any of the pictures. It's for anonymity."

"You can say that again." He groused, looking over the 'body' carefully, scouring the skin for any identifying marks. He sighed heavily as he passed his blue orbs over the pictures once again. There was nothing. No marks or blemishes, the pearly white skin was just as perfect as he remembered it to be. Of course the last time he had had her laying on a table had been in the first few days in Paris, and she had been waiting for him to join her. He smiled sadly in remembrance, he had undressed her and laid her on the table because her leg had been particularly painful, the bullet wound had healed but the deep tissue wouldn't let her forget she had been shot. His smile froze on his face and his picked up the picture of her thigh, where the scar would be, but wasn't. He held it out for Ducky to look at and the older man took it from him, his brow creasing in concentration, and Gibbs waited for it to click in his mind. The three of them had been on the mission to the Czech Republic and Ducky had been the one to look after the wounds they suffered throughout their time there. He should remember the bullet wound too. After a few seconds Ducky's expression cleared and he moved forward to look over the pictures himself.

"There's no scar. It's not a trick of the light either, the skin here is all the same colour and it shouldn't be." He traced a circle on the picture of the thigh, where he knew the bullet had torn its way through Jenny's leg. "This is not her leg."

"Anonymity again, Duck? Or did they really not have Jenny's body?" The undisguised hope on Jethro's face and in his voice made the old M.E. tread carefully. If her body really was in the plot, he would be completely devastated.

"The only way to know for sure is to exhume the body in her plot at Arlington." Gibbs agreed, but one thing was now bothering him.

"Ducky, the gun used to kill Rene Benoit was-"

"Jennifer's back up weapon, yes." Ducky recalled telling him that some things should be left unknown, the day she was killed.

"You said the same weapon was used to kill Todd."

"The same _type_ of weapon, Jethro. Without a bullet or casing there is no way to be sure." He trailed off and looked hard at Gibbs. "What are you suggesting?"

"Jenny could have been the one that killed Todd."

--

Jenny slung her bag over her shoulder and slipped out the door, closing it gently behind her. Trent had been true to his word and they had gone on a tour of the city, as well as locating the houses of her enemies. He had finally given her the targets in NCIS too, though he believed she didn't need to know their names. He had shown her pictures of them and she had been surprised to find two of them looked incredibly… incapable of subterfuge. The two computer geeks had thrown her for a moment but Trent had reminded her that geek's make good cover because of the stereotype that makes them seem harmless. She wasn't going to be taken in by appearances. Only one of the entire bunch worried her; the Hamas operative. The woman promised death with her gaze, even the smile on one of the security photos showed her ability to disarm her target with a simple gesture. Well Jenny wouldn't let her try it on her, she would shoot her from afar and make sure she couldn't get back up before going anywhere near her. She smiled and took out the little pile of pictures. She couldn't pick them out of a crowd without some way to identify them, so she had borrowed the clearest of the photos from Trent. He wouldn't mind once she reported the successful kills she was going to make tonight. She flicked through them again, trying to commit their faces to memory and then put them back in her bag and buttoned up her thick, black fleece jacket, pulling the bag strap tighter to her. She was planning to surprise Trent with at least two deaths and she knew exactly which two she was going to start with.

She smiled to herself and walked through the streets towards a coffee shop, where her first target was a regular customer. The walk was quite a long one but Jenny didn't mind. She enjoyed the time alone in the crisp, cool night air, hoping some sort of memory would resurface. Trent seemed to be getting more worried about the fact she couldn't recollect anything from before her accident, his probing questions about her past were becoming more frequent and his expression was always carefully controlled when she replied negatively. She tried to remember things, she really did, and she was too old to be looked after by her brother. She should be helping him and her country by killing these people, but she couldn't even manage that anymore since she had lost her memory.

She spent the rest of her trek with her head down, ploughing through any other pedestrians that happened to share the pavement with her and ignoring her surroundings, her depression at not remembering anything preventing her from looking too closely at anything until she almost walked through the door to the coffee shop her target was going to be in. she stopped dead in her tracks and wandered across the road to be opposite it. She ducked down the alley beside the shop opposite the coffee shop and began to scale the fire escape, pulling a bin to the foot of it so she could reach it. She felt giddy all of a sudden, knowing that she would be making Trent so happy with her. He would stop doubting her after this, her ability to do her job would be self explanatory. Maybe he would spend a little more time with her and help her with her knife throwing. She had been right when she had thought she would be terrible at it. Only one knife out of ten had stuck in the target and that had missed all vital organs, instead embedding itself in the target's groin. Trent had laughed, actually laughed at her so much he had slipped to the ground and turned bright red in oxygen deprivation, she had been so humiliated.

She reached the top of the building and pulled up her hood to conceal her face and blend in better with the darkness, belatedly realising she should have done that earlier, and then pulled out her gun, well Trent's gun. She crouched and snuck slowly closer to the edge of the building so she could see over the edge, and into the coffee shop. She took out a silencer and screwed it on to the end of the gun. She would be testing her skill to the extreme now. She adjusted the sight on the small custom gun and settled herself down on the lip of the building. She steadied the gun and looked through the sight, the inside of the coffee shop clear and bright. She grinned and moved the sight, looking around the shop, searching for him. _Ah, there he is_. The male computer geek sat by the window with his back to her and his laptop open, writing something lightning fast, stopping occasionally to take a sip of his coffee. She centred the sight on the back of his head, merely watching for a few moments to make sure he wouldn't move at the critical moment. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for. She began to squeeze the trigger when suddenly she wasn't on the rooftop anymore; she was in a large, open plan room, with desks in little mini wall compartments.

_She was standing behind the computer tech, looking over his shoulder as he typed away on his keyboard. She realised she was talking and concentrated on her words._

"_Everything Tim. If La Grenouille is in DC this could lead us to him."_

"_Or DiNozzo" a grey haired man replied to her, moving away from her, his face hidden from her view._

"_Well obviously DiNozzo is our first priority." She agreed with him, despite the fact his statement had made her seem heartless, even though she wasn't. She didn't feel like arguing with him over his tone when he was already blaming her for the current predicament._

"_Ziva start with the hospital. Find out when DiNozzo left and with who." The man rounded a desk in front of her but instead of looking at him, she turned away._

"_And who was driving his car. Got it." The young Israeli woman picked up the man's train of thought and began to make calls._

"_Director Shepard." She turned to see the undercover CIA Agent and handler for La Grenouille, Trent Kort, walking purposefully towards her, radiating irritation, why he was in her building she could only guess, although it probably wasn't going to be good for whoever it concerned._

"_Mr Kort. An unannounced visit by the CIA usually means someone's in trouble. I trust it isn't you." He gave her a tight, clearly pissed smile and demanded to see her in her office privately, which she refused. She had kept enough secrets from the team; she wouldn't talk to him in private if she could help it. She didn't trust him and she knew the feeling was mutual._

Jenny gasped in shock as her vision blurred and then cleared, and she realised she was back on the rooftop, the sounds of screaming in the air. What the hell had just happened?! How could she remember being in the same room as most of her targets? Why had she seemed to not know Trent very well? He was her brother for Christ's sake! She tried to stop herself from hyperventilating by taking deep breaths, the sound of screams finally registering in her mind as something potentially dangerous to her. She quickly looked through her sight and saw that she had pulled the trigger while she had been in the memory. There was a small smoking hole through the young man's laptop, the man himself was unharmed, had his own gun out and was slowly making his way out of the coffee shop and across the street right towards her. She panicked, jumping up from her hiding place and stuffing the gun in her bag before taking off towards the fire escape, even though she knew she would never get to the bottom before he reached her. She was correct in that assessment, as she looked over the side of the building and saw he had run across the road to take cover in the alleyway below her. She was stuck, and worse, she didn't know anymore if she should kill the boy or not.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Trent Kort fumed and threw the syringe in his hand at Gregory, the younger man dodging it just in time to avoid being impaled with it. Jennifer was gone; she had left the safe house at some point during the night, probably while he had been briefing his associate on her progress, and had taken his gun with her. That part was hardly surprising since he hadn't given her a gun of her own yet, he didn't want her to use it on him. However she hadn't taken her suppressant before leaving, which was Gregory's fault. He was supposed to make sure she had it at the appointed time every day. One missed day wouldn't do that much to reverse the effect of the drug, but he still didn't want to chance it. Kort turned to look at Gregory and then advanced on him.

"Where could she have gone? And why?" he thundered at the frightened therapist, his enjoyment of the young man's cowering tempering his fury.

"She took your gun right? Maybe she went to kill her targets." The suggestion was a good one, although Trent resented how easily the young man defended her actions. He was supposed to be a trained CIA Agent, proficient in manipulation, and yet Jenny had managed to completely wrap him around her finger. It just showed how weak minded Gregory really was. _Maybe he should be taken out of the equation, he is becoming a liability_. The mission could have preceded a lot faster if Gregory hadn't been mollycoddling her as much as he had. Trent knew that if he had been more proactive in her recovery, she would already be the killing machine he was trying to create.

"No, I told her to wait for me before trying to take any of them out." He watched Gregory's face display a little disbelief at his words and his resentment swelled. He thought he knew her better than him? He had studied her actions from afar over the last few weeks; he knew her mind, her thought processes, better than anyone.

"Well maybe she ignored you." Trent scoffed at that. She wouldn't dare ignore him!

"I think it more likely that she has remembered something about a previous encounter of ours and has run away. She has been pining for my attention since she woke up, she wouldn't risk my displeasure." Gregory conceded defeat on that point, no matter how much Kort disregarded her; she always tried to get on his good side.

"Maybe she's trying to impress you." That made Trent pause. She could potentially be trying to get his attention through doing something she thought he would be proud of her for. It fit with his knowledge of her character and gave a good reason of why she took the gun. Well if that was the case, and she has taken out one or more targets, he could forgive Gregory's inattentiveness of her actions and postpone his punishment for endangering the mission.

Kort turned to the table in front of him and picked up the last picture he had been about to give her, the one of Agent Gibbs. He hadn't dared to show it to her yet, knowing that if she was going to remember anyone from NCIS, it would be him. Trent was fast coming to the conclusion that if she took a turn for the worst, he could have her take out everyone else, and then he could take her out himself. Killing Gibbs afterwards would be simple, since he would more than likely be mourning over the bodies of his fallen team. He chuckled to himself, even if she already had run away as he had first thought; finding her again would be simple. Her presence amongst them again would make them all congregate around her in one place and he could merely throw a bomb in with them. They would never know what hit them.

"Why do we need to do this anyway? Why don't we just blow up NCIS?" Gregory reiterated the question that until now, Kort had refused to answer. Jenny had always been just around the corner and the risk of her hearing him had been too great. He was now angry enough to no longer care; however, so he rounded on Gregory, fuming at what had seemingly become the young man's mantra over the last three weeks.

"We are doing it this way because my associate wants the building and its other Agents to remain unharmed. If I ever hear that question from your mouth again, I will remove your spinal column from your body! Is that clear?" Gregory nodded jerkily, the terror plain in the simple action, and then he stumbled from the room to get away from the older Agent. Trent Kort had a reputation amongst the other CIA Agents, and to witness his ruthlessness up close was both an honour the others could only dream of, and a curse that caused no end of sleepless nights, wondering when he would become expendable.

--

Jenny chanced a glance over the side of the roof as she heard the young Agent begin walking up the stairs. With nowhere to run and an armed man closing in on her position, her options became more and more limited. Her body was shaking from the shock of what had happened to her, the adrenaline pumping through her veins making her already rapidly beating heart to become erratic and she was feeling light headed. What should she do? She could probably shoot the boy in the head as he made his way up the stairs, but did she really want to do that? She remembered him, she had called him Tim. Tim who? Why had Trent called her Director Shepard? Maybe he had been talking to someone else. Maybe to Tim. He had been right next to her; maybe he was Director Tim Shepard. She pulled a face, that didn't sound right. Tim, what was that short for? _Timothy, _her mind supplied immediately. Timothy? Agent Timothy… Mc something. McProbie? She knew she had heard that before, but it still didn't sound right. She sighed in frustration and chanced another glance over the side. She couldn't see him so she pulled her head back and looked around warily. Where was he? _Damn, he must have heard me sigh!_

The footfalls began again, this time though they were louder and faster, causing her to pull away from the fire escape and stand up, looking around wildly for another escape route. She had decided to run. She couldn't do it, she couldn't kill the boy. _He's one of your targets_, a voice said in her head; _he is supposed to be familiar to you. Trent told you these people were your friends but they turned traitor. Are you going to let the traitor go unpunished? _Jenny hesitated, plunging her hand into her bag to retrieve Trent's gun, her mission was clear; kill the traitors who tried to kill you. She turned back to the fire escape and walked to the edge, he was close now, just one level away. She aimed carefully at his head, but she just couldn't pull the trigger, not now. She pointed it down slightly and then fired, the bullet hitting the step just in front of his foot, the warning clear. He stopped and ducked behind the steps still above him, pointing his own gun up through a gap.

"NCIS! Drop the weapon!" his voice was strong and clear with conviction.

"Name?" she asked, her voice low, the one word hopefully not enough to give away her identity.

"I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee and you?" _McGee! Yes, that's it! Tim McGee_!

Jenny smiled through the shadows at the boy below her. '_He's not a boy, he's a federal Agent_.' She jumped as the angry words resounded in her head. What was with the sudden surge of memories?! They never came to her like this, in fact the last one she had had before tonight was… _the day before Trent started giving me more of that drug_. What was in that syringe? Is it helping me fight infection or just stopping me from remembering? She shook her head and forced her mind to the present. Well, whoever had said that to her was right, he wasn't a boy and she was doing the young man an injustice by thinking of him as such. She didn't reply to his question though, resisting the impulse to ask if he knew her, she didn't want to reveal herself to him or any of her… she didn't know what to call them now. She decided now was her last chance to get away unseen, so she spun on her heel and dashed to the other side of the roof, knowing that it was her only avenue of escape, albeit a dangerous one. She heard his footfalls begin again and spared one last look over her shoulder before launching herself into the blackness, over the edge of the building.

Her landing was painful, the solid surface of the lower rooftop approaching faster then she anticipated through the darkness, her foot twisting as she landed and her side screaming in pain as she turned her landing into a roll. "Damn it McGee!" she groaned as she caught her breath, not particularly knowing why she said it, and hoping he hadn't heard her. Although her arrival on the rooftop was ungainly, she had gotten away relatively unscathed and she picked herself up swiftly, hiding just in time over the roof edge, on the fire escape. It was on the mirror side to the building that Tim was on now, so she glanced over just in time to see him look around for her, then disappear. She breathed a long sigh of relief at her close shave and walked down the stairs, joining the other pedestrians on the main road ways, blending in perfectly, while trying not to limp. Now all she had to do was decide what to do with her new knowledge of Kort.

--

Timothy McGee looked around the rooftop warily, looking for the person that had shot at him, twice. He couldn't believe his bad luck, first being raked over the coals by Vance for _not_ betraying his boss, and then getting shot at, his laptop now had a new hole and the person that had tried to kill him had gotten away. They even had his name! He shook his head at his stupidity, why had he given out his name? The one word from the hidden assailant had practically seemed like an order, so he had responded before realising how foolish he was being. The voice had seemed so familiar at the time, but now he probably couldn't give a definitive answer if the person actually came up to him and talked to him for half an hour. McGee dropped his head and rubbed his eyes. If his bank account was cleared out tomorrow he had no one to blame but himself. He blinked and then stared, his eyes going wide as a little metallic glint caught his attention. The person had left his brass! McGee chuckled at the unexpected fortune and pulled on a pair of gloves and a bag from his pocket. _Always be prepared_, he thought, picking up the bullet casing and putting it in the little bag and sealing it. _Two bullets two casings_, he thought, searching the roof for the second casing. He found it, and a single strand of hair, after a few minutes of searching and then held up his prizes proudly. _You can run, but you can't hide from Abby's forensic know-how_. Tim pulled out his phone and called Gibbs, hoping he was in a good mood.

"_Gibbs_." McGee internally sighed, _seems not._

"Boss? It's McGee. I've just been shot at-" Gibbs cut him off urgently.

"_You_ _ok_ _McGee?_"

"Yes boss. I'm opposite my usual coffee shop and I've got bullet casings and a hair for Abby. I might have a bullet too. The person got away though. Only casualties are my laptop and my pride." Gibbs chuckled a little and then became all business.

"_I'll send Tony and Ziva to you. If you see anyone suspicious, bring 'em down. If you were targeted they might try again._" Tim looked around cautiously, realising how much he stood out on the open roof top.

"Got it boss." McGee put down the phone and quickly walked back down the stairs, and back across the road into the coffee shop. He flashed his badge and told the owner that his team mates would processing the shop window and where he had been sitting and that he would need the security tapes from the shop front and the street. He walked over to his laptop and then followed the trajectory of the bullet that had passed through it, finding it embedded in the floor, under the table. _More for Abby_, he thought happily, hoping that this psycho would be caught soon. After everything that had happened recently, the last thing he wanted was for the team to be put in danger. Tony and Ziva burst through the door moments later and McGee gave them a weak smile.

"Did someone take offense at your next chapter, Probie?" Tony offered jokingly, his attempt at putting McGee at ease falling a little flat. Ziva pinched his funny bone and sent him across the street before approaching Tim.

"Do not worry McGee; we will not let anything happen to you." Ziva told him, a small smile on her face. She gave him a pat on the shoulder and then got to work across the street. McGee chuckled at his friends' antics and got back to work himself, his mind happy and clear because, despite what had happened on their last protection mission, which hadn't been their fault anyway, he believed in them and their words.

_A.N.: Just to reiterate the point, Todd did whack her head so she does have amnesia, the drug is just repressing the memories she would have been regaining anyway, and the increased dose is playing havoc with her current memories too. Thank you everyone who has and will review!_


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Abby grinned happily as she pulled DNA from the hair that McGee had found on the rooftop where he had been shot at. The DNA was fresh and the root was still intact, so it must have been pulled out of the shooters head when he/she had tried to escape, their haste making them bungle the getaway. _Well they were not going to be on the run for long!_ Once she ran the DNA, and the finger prints she had pulled from the bullet casings, she would have an ID to give to Gibbs, and he would go out and kick this guy's ass for trying to hurt Timmy. Well, actually it looked like it was going to be a woman, since the hair was 8 inches long, although it could be a man with long hair… well they were going down anyway. She grinned wickedly and took a long draw on the straw in her Caf-Pow.

McGee was sitting next to her, running through the security tapes from the coffee shop, looking for the point at which he entered. He sighed as he cast a glance at his laptop, laying in an evidence bag with a huge hole in it. It was completely useless now, and he thanked his lucky stars that the bullet had gone through the screen and not into the motherboard, so he could still get his information off of it. He would probably still have found a way, even if it had destroyed the circuitry, but he was glad he didn't have to try.

"Hey, there you are!" Abby pointed at McGee's figure on the computer screen as he entered the shop and ordered a coffee. "Aww, Timmy. You look so glum." McGee slowed the playback and sadly watched himself set up his late laptop by the window.

"You would too if you had just been dragged into Vance's office so he could try and turn you in to some sort of Tattling-Spy." She picked up her Caf-Pow and drank the last, and then she threw it in the garbage and took out her spare, offering McGee the first drink from it, to cheer him up. He took the straw and gave Abby a smile, showing her it was appreciated and then gave it back to her. Abby turned back to her own computer as it dinged, telling her that a match from the fingerprints was now available. She brought up the result and stared at the person it displayed. Trent Kort? She had heard that name before, but couldn't figure out where from.

"Who is Trent Kort?" she gave Tim a tap on the shoulder.

"CIA handler for La Grenouille. He came into NCIS once, back when we thought Tony had died in that explosion. Why?" Abby pointed at her screen with a predatory smile.

"His prints were on the bullet casings. Guess we know who the shooter is!" She patted his back and then froze as a small figure appeared on the tapes, stopping sharply in front of the coffee shop window and then walking quickly across the street.

"There! The-Timmy, there!" she pointed frantically at the screen and McGee rolled back the footage to the point at which they had a clear shot of the persons face. The longish red hair and distinctive facial features that they had seen nearly every day for three years taunted them from the recording. They both stared at the picture, willing it to change or at least take a different route, away from the building across the street. Abby shook her head slowly. "No, that's not possible."

"Jenny?" Tim enlarged the shot of the face, the features becoming clearer, his memory struggling to remember if the voice of the shooter could be Jenny's, and failing, the one word spoken to him was too little for him to ID.

"No, it must be someone that just looks like her, she's dead and we know she is! The prints weren't even hers, so she probably wasn't even on the roof. Maybe she forgot something and went across the street as a short cut to… somewhere!" Just then the DNA search on the hair dinged, and Abby pounced on the button bringing it up and praying that it was some felon, so she could prove that this was madness, probably from the stress of Timmy being shot at. The file it brought up however did not belong to a felon.

"I don't believe it…" Tim stared at the picture of Jenny Shepard in horror. He had been shot at by a dead woman? No, no it couldn't be. "I must have… contaminated the scene somehow…"

"With a look alike who also happens to have the exact same DNA? It's a 100% match."

"With a hair." he said, wondering if he could have picked up a hair that she could have left maybe in her office since he had been in there moments before leaving for a coffee. "I was in her office."

"Vance had the place sterilised when he moved in, remember?" they both fell silent and stared at the evidence telling them a dead friend had tried to kill one of them. "What do we tell Gibbs?"

--

Jenny pulled her hood over her head and tried to blend in with the crowd of pedestrians, staying just a few steps behind her quarry. Trent hadn't been especially understanding of her absence last night, in fact he had been positively aggressive towards her, forcing the syringe into her arm the second she walked through the door. Well that had stung both her arm and her pride and she damn well wasn't going to let him do that to her again! She had pretended to take it herself this morning, sticking it in to a hidden wad of tissue that she had stuffed up her sleeve, and releasing the liquid into the absorbent paper, effectively making it seem that she had taken the drug when she hadn't. She didn't really want to rebel against her brother like that, or get Gregory into trouble, but she had to know if that stuff was making her better or worse.

She had thought long and hard about her memory, and she had realised that Trent had just been acting, pretending to not know or like her, and she must have been undercover as someone else. She had also decided that while she couldn't kill Tim, she _could_ take out the Hamas terrorist. Hamas were dangerous at the best of times, but this one was well dug in. She had to choose her moment carefully, or the assassin would turn around and slaughter her. She wasn't going to give her the chance. She kept enough of a gap between them for her to watch the Israeli woman's every move, but enough of one so she could have a better chance of getting away if she was discovered.

The Hamas woman appeared to be on a mission herself, walking around the rundown streets near the coffee shop where Jenny had shot at Tim last night. She appeared to be looking for something. Jenny followed a little closer as the woman turned down an alley and walked down it towards the fire escape. _What could she be looking for down here? _Jenny split away from her and walked down the adjacent alley, knowing that if ever there was a chance to take the woman down without being seen, it would be now, while she was away from the public eye. Jenny swiftly climbed the fire escape that she had climbed down last night and got up on the roof top. She crept to the edge and watched the woman approach a doorway at the middle of the alley, gun drawn. Jenny pulled out her own gun and sat down at the edge, looking through the sight, just in time to see the woman's dark hair whip through the doorway.

"Damn it!" Jenny muttered angrily as the perfect shot just passed her by. She sat back and pulled her hood off shaking her hair out, the sun baking her in the dark, cover-all clothing she had decided to wear. She would have to wash her hair again when she got in, the freshness from her shower that morning had passed already, and the heat made her hair stick to her head. She wound her hair into a knot and then pulled her hood back up. What was the woman doing in there? She hadn't gone anywhere near that door, so the woman wasn't following her trail. Just then the door slammed open and the Israeli tumbled out, locked in a struggle with a huge, muscled man covered in tattoos, the loser obviously going to be not long for the world. He punched the woman in the stomach and threw her to the floor, pulling out a gun as he moved to stand over her. The woman attempted to kick him away, but he dodged and raised his weapon. Jenny whipped up her gun and fired, not even thinking about what she was doing, the situation happening so fast. The big man fell, blood trickling out of the hole in his head and the Israeli woman jumped up to her feet, her gun back in her hands and her eyes scanning the area. Jenny shrank back from the edge of the building, her mind a mess of confusion. She had shot the wrong target, hell; she had _aimed_ for the wrong target! _What's wrong with me?_ She shook her head and cursed herself, her mistake, because she was sure it was one, allowing the Hamas to realise she was being tailed. Jenny tried to sneak away, however the Israeli saw her and took off towards the fire escape to the building she was on. Jenny panicked, she turned to climb down the stairs and then saw the woman climbing up it towards her. She couldn't pull the same trick she had last night, the only rooftop near was higher than the one she was on currently. She was stuck, or maybe not…

Jenny broke the window closest to her and quickly climbed through it, and ran in to the room she had just broken into. Rather than running through it however, she waited, and then smiled as she heard a corresponding tinkle of breaking glass from below her. The Israeli was trying to cut her off at the stairs inside the building. Jenny turned around and climbed back out the window and took off down those stairs as fast as she could, running away from the building and towards the hustle and bustle of the city, blending in with the crowd. It wouldn't help her as well as it did last night though, particularly not if the woman had caught a good glimpse of her, so she walked as fast as she dared directly away from the building, hoping her skills would keep her safe and hidden.

--

Gibbs watched the footage that Abby was playing for him silently, the figure on screen unmistakable to him. That was Jenny, alive and well, stalking his Agent and trying to kill him with bullets that belong or belonged to Trent Kort. Well that answered the question of whether Jenny was really alive or not. It was probably the answer to whether Jenny had killed Todd too. He exchanged a glance with Ducky and the elderly ME produced the autopsy pictured that they had been looking at just yesterday. He put the folder on the table in front of him and brought everyone's attention to it. Abby, McGee, Tony, Cynthia and Palmer all looked at the folder curiously.

"We already suspected that Jennifer was alive, the body that was autopsied was not hers and these pictures prove it, however, we did not have any _evidence_ that she was alive. Any _real_ evidence." He added at Gibbs' hard look.

"Since she seems to be targeting McGee, we thought you should all know the whole picture, just in case this is some sort of 'revenge against NCIS' killing spree." Gibbs pointed to Cynthia who pulled out the glass, which they had gotten their first bit of evidence from. "This is one of Jenny's glasses, which she used to drink her Bourbon from. We found that it also contained a large amount of drugs, which were designed to make her think she was dying." Confused glances were shared by those who didn't already know.

"So… she wasn't?" Tony asked, slightly incredulously.

"No. She went to see a neurologist, since the symptoms she was showing were for a brain tumour, and that neurologist was Todd Gelfand." McGee dipped his head as the news broadcast returned to the forefront of his mind.

"The dead guy?" Gibbs smiled a little and nodded.

"Yes, and he died three weeks ago, same as Jenny. We had to get this glass from Cynthia, because Vance threw out the decanter and the other glasses when he got the office, probably during the _sterilisation_." He spat the last word like it was poisonous and all present agreed with the sentiment. Tony turned to Cynthia enquiringly.

"You had it? Why didn't you wash it?" Cynthia smiled sadly and cradled the glass fondly.

"If I had it would just be another glass, I wanted it to still be Jenny's, so I left it as I found it." he shrugged his shoulders and wandered over to the folder, the first to open it and pull out the pictures.

"The pictures from the autopsy report, as was previously stated, are not of Jenny." Gibbs repeated to him.

"I thought Ducky did the autopsy." Abby asked, shooting a penetrating glance at the ME, who sighed.

"Vance had her body transferred to another ME." They all looked at each other; Vance had been mentioned one too many times for their liking. Tony turned to his left, about to say something and then closed his mouth, looking around wildly.

"Where's Ziva?"

--

Ziva watched the figure wend her way through the crowds, looking like just another pedestrian, but she knew better. The hunter was now the hunted, she thought, and turned off her phone so a sudden call wouldn't give her away. She had decided to take another look for the second bullet, which had according to McGee, hit the steps, but it hadn't been there when she and Tony had searched for it. she had decided to look further down the street just in case the bullet had bounced that far down, and had ended up overhearing a conversation about a hit. She had gone to investigate, thinking it may have been about McGee, and had found instead a man on a phone with a dead body in front of him, obviously having just completed his own hit. The last thing she had expected while she had been grappling with the guy was for the shooter she had been trying to find to save her, but then the woman acted like she had made a mistake, so she had probably just missed. Ziva kept her distance, letting the shooter think she was getting away and followed her, wondering where they would end up.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: My sister was a huge help in this chapter, I had an idea of what I wanted and she brainstormed with me till I got there!

Jenny kept to the well populated areas in case she was being followed, but so far she had not seen any sign of the Israeli woman, and she let out a cautious breath of relief. This was a disaster, she now had three bullets unaccounted for and none of her targets were dead. If Trent checked her weapon, or she asked for more bullets, she would have to tell him that she had fired at them and missed. He would never let her out on her own again. She groaned at the thought of being cooped up at the safe house while Trent cleaned up her mess. She increased her pace and hoped he would still be in the meeting with his friend when she got back so she could slip in unnoticed. She grinned to herself as she decided to ask Gregory to get her some more bullets, knowing that he would, just because she had asked him to. He was a really nice person and great company when Trent became suddenly cold to her. He would help her, of that she was sure. Her plans made, she continued to the safe house, unaware of the figure that kept pace with her, just out of her periphery.

--

Ziva continued to follow the shooter, staying out of the woman's line of sight, falling back on her Assassin skills, which she noted with relief were not as rusty as she expected, but used to be much sharper. She mentally kicked herself, she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed she had been followed until the woman had taken a shot at her; the US really was making her soft, dulling her senses. Perhaps that was why she had ignored her instincts back when she had been protecting Jenny. Back in Cairo, she would have simply walked away from Tony and stolen a car, if she didn't have control of his, and gone after her regardless of what she had told her, but back then, they had been partners, equals, one not able to order the other around. Here it had been much different. She had been too afraid of being sent back to Tel Aviv, so she hadn't done what she should have and Jenny had died because of it. Her fear had killed her first real friend, so now she shed her fear. This woman before her was being brought to justice, no matter what happened.

The woman wended her way through the other pedestrians easily, reminding Ziva of the way she and Jenny had operated back in Europe when they had been chasing terrorists, she had spent a while teaching her to go with the flow of the other people, rather than trying to part them like she was used to in the US, as Gibbs had taught her. In Cairo, announcing yourself before you reached your target was close to suicide, since they were more than happy to pull out a gun and mow down the crowds. The déjà vu hit her and she quickened her pace, her keen eyes now studying the woman in detail. Mossad operatives died all the time and some came back to work a few weeks later shaken, but triumphant. Her training also taught her that nothing was outside the realms of possibility, so what she was seeing could in theory be true. The way the woman walked was strikingly similar to Jenny, though the heels Ziva had become accustomed to her wearing as Director had distorted her familiar walk somewhat. The walk in front of her was pure Cairo-Jenny; even the casual flick of her head to check if she was being followed was perfectly in sync with what she knew.

Ziva sped up even more her heart pounding in anticipation. Her friend was right there in front of her, all she had to do was reach out and turn her around to face her, to see her face. She was six paces behind her and just about to call her name when a familiar face walked between them, cutting off her view of Jenny's retreating figure. The Sec-Nav extended a hand and gave her a cool smile.

"Miss David, did Gibbs send you on a coffee run?" Ziva was obliged to stop and answer his question, his status in NCIS forcing her to return the pleasantries, while her quarry slipped away.

"No Sir, I was following J-... the shooter who tried to kill Special Agent McGee." His eyes widened in surprise.

"Someone has made a threat against one of our Agents? This is serious. My car is around the corner; perhaps you would accompany me back to NCIS? I will require the full explanation from Agent Gibbs' team, including you." The request, which wasn't really a request but an order, shattered Ziva's hopes of resuming the chase after Jenny and she looked forlornly past the Sec-Nav, noting Jenny was nowhere to be seen. Her heart sank and she numbly acquiesced, falling in to step with him, walking away from the only real lead they had in the shooting at McGee.

--

Gibbs cursed as Ziva's phone once again went straight to voicemail. She had it turned off, she must have. _So much for rule number three_, he thought angrily. He slammed the piece of technology onto the solid surface of his desk, the plastic splitting and breaking away like a dropped glass and the screen going dark. He looked up from the bits of his phone as Vance stopped in front of him. The younger man watched him for a moment, making sure he had his attention before talking to him. He didn't want to start talking and be ignored, his position too precarious to risk such a public display of disrespect.

"I hear that there was an attempt on Special Agent McGee's life. Why was I not notified?" Gibbs glanced back down to his destroyed phone, cursing his temper. If Ziva tried to call him now, she wouldn't be able to get through to him. He turned his attention back to Vance reluctantly.

"We haven't caught the… person… yet, so unless you want to strap on a gun and come out looking for leads with us, there was nothing to tell you." Vance bristled at the careless tone, his patience with the recalcitrant Agent at an end.

"The system you worked under before is gone; you will not be receiving preferential treatment because of, illicit activities, with a superior anymore. I am the Director, Agent Gibbs, no matter how much you wish otherwise. You report to me, no excuses. If you breach protocol again, you may find yourself as a Probationary Agent, or without a job." He would do it, no doubt about it, but he needed a good excuse. Talking back wouldn't cut it, since even the Sec-Nav knew to expect it. That was why Vance had been trying to coerce McGee into turning tattletale. _I guess straight up murder won't work on me like it almost did on Jenny_.

"I'm sure there was a good reason for it Leon, just as I am also sure it will be interesting to hear." The Sec-Nav appeared behind Vance, Ziva following him, throwing apologetic glances at Gibbs. "Agent Gibbs, I would like to hear your account of this, in private." Gibbs nodded and rose from his seat, gesturing to the elevator. The Sec-Nav and Ziva followed him in to it, Vance retreating to his office.

"I didn't expect to see you, sir." Gibbs said once they were in the elevator. They took it down to Abby's lab where the rest of Team Gibbs was. Ziva said nothing during the ride down, to Gibbs or the Sec-Nav, making Jethro worry about why she had been accompanying him anyway and why she had left her phone off. The doors opened and the three stepped out, filing in to Abby's lab.

"Alright Agent Gibbs, I want to know everything about this attempt on Special Agent McGee." Abby and McGee turned around in surprise at the new voice, trying to cover their screens whilst they did so. They kept silent though; almost afraid to draw attention to them in case the man saw the information on Jenny. McGee surreptitiously switched off the monitors just as the Sec-Nav turned to them.

"Well sir, we have two bullets and some fingerprints. McGee." Gibbs nodded to McGee and the young man turned one of the monitors back on and brought up the fingerprint match to Trent Kort. The Sec-Nav's eyes widened in surprise as he saw the match, before he carefully controlled his expression.

"One of the CIA's operatives, why would he shoot at your man?"

"He didn't, but this part may be a little hard to believe sir." Tony spoke up from outside the lab as he entered from the elevator. Vance had sent him down and he passed Gibbs a new phone as he approached. Gibbs pocketed the new phone and motioned to Abby to bring up the information on the hair and recording from the coffee shop.

"Erm… this is the video from the coffee shop… it erm… it shows Jenny." Abby said nervously, as the Sec-Nav turned to her, confused.

"Jenny who? If you know this person why haven't you caught her?" Gibbs walked over to stand next to Abby, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

"Jennifer Shepard." The Sec-Nav froze and then shook his head vigorously.

"Impossible, she's dead."

"No sir, she isn't. Her autopsy report was falsified. We also found a hair on the rooftop where McGee confronted the shooter and the DNA came back as a 100% match. There is no doubt about it. Jenny is alive and she tried to kill McGee." Jethro said his heart constricting as he admitted to someone who wasn't part of the family that 'mommy' was trying to kill the kids. His Jenny had turned against them in an utterly unforgivable way, and yet he couldn't help but be thrilled that she was really alive. His love couldn't discriminate between the woman and the killer, no matter whose side she was on. His head however, wanted to take her down and rather ashamedly wished she had stayed dead, because dead she had at least been remembered by the team fondly.

"We think someone is in on it, too." Tony added.

"An inside job, as it were." McGee added. "We think its Vance." The Sec-Nav shook his head, looking a little dazed at what he was hearing, a small smile of disbelief on his face.

"Director Leon Vance? You think he is in on Jenny's death? Or her current activities?" he asked Gibbs cautiously, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Her death, sir, though we won't rule out anything else."

"She shot at me as well; I was following her when we met, sir." Ziva finally spoke up, and everyone's attention was suddenly focussed on her. She shifted a little nervously before pushing her emotions to the back of her mind, and straightening to report. "I was looking for the second bullet. I entered a fight with a large man, and she shot him and then ran away. I believe she aimed for me and missed, but I cannot be sure."

"And I blocked your way and then brought you here, I am sorry my dear. However this is beyond the power of NCIS alone, I will enlist the aid of another Agency, one she doesn't know the Agents of so we can bring her in safely. Please forward all of the evidence to my office and I will keep you informed as updates come through." He pointed at Abby as he spoke and then moved towards the door resolutely. "I will speak to Leon, and if he is involved he will be removed. Thank you everyone." The Sec-Nav left, leaving the lab in perfect silence for a few moments while everyone absorbed what had happened.

"Gibbs? What just happened?" Abby's small voice cut through the silence like a bell and everyone turned to look at Gibbs, awaiting the answer. Gibbs swallowed hard and blinked, before letting out a harsh breath, anger slowly flooding his body.

"We just got taken off of the case."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Trent Kort watched from the window in the front door as Jennifer approached the safe house, thankful that his meeting with his associate had ended a few minutes ago. She rounded the corner up the street with a shadow, a rather familiar shadow called Ziva David, of whom Jennifer was completely unaware. He checked his side arm, the spare, regular gun that he had planned to give to Jenny, instead of his custom made gun which she had taken. It was loaded, safety off and ready to go. If she unwittingly brought her tail any closer to the house he would take out the Israeli, before she could raise any sort of alarm. He pulled back the net curtain a little to observe their approach, hoping Ziva would try to enter the house to confront Jennifer. They drew closer to the house, Jennifer's destination still unclear to the Mossad Officer but he pulled back slightly to stay hidden behind the door, just in case. Suddenly the Israeli began to pick up her pace; trying to catch up to Jennifer slowly, so she wasn't alerted to her presence until she reached her. Trent reached out, his fingers fumbling, trying to turn his key and unlock the door. He succeeded and then he gripped the door handle, readying himself to move out of the house and kill the Israeli if she got closer. She sped up again, reaching out a hand to catch Jennifer's shoulder and just then fate intervened. The Secretary of the Navy stepped between the two women, intercepting Ziva before she could reach Jennifer, who walked on, unaware of the close shave she had just had. Trent let out a sigh of relief and relocked the door, removing his key and stepping back from it, allowing Jennifer to unlock it a few moments later and enter the house.

"Where have you been?" he asked her the second she closed the door behind her. She jumped and whirled around to face him, the surprise clear on her face before it turned to annoyance.

"I went for a walk. Why were you waiting behind the door? Trying to give me a heart attack?" She turned her key in the lock and pocketed it, turning to walk up the stairs. Trent watched her take a few steps before he answered, making sure she couldn't see his face when he spoke and the absolute truth in it.

"I would think of a much more elaborate death for you than fright, trust me." He said emphatically. She turned and threw a smile over her shoulder, obviously thinking he was being sarcastic, and then continued up the stairs to her room. He watched her go and then put the safety back on his gun. She wasn't compromised so he didn't need to neutralise her, he did however need to know where she had picked up her tail. He let her have a few moments to herself and then followed her upstairs, knocking on the door to her room as he approached it.

"Come in!" she called through the door and he opened it and then stepped inside. She looked up from the pictures of her targets that Trent had given her to memorise, smiled brightly at him, and placed them down next to her.

"Where did you go today?" he enquired softly, knowing she was more likely to respond to a gentle prodding rather than the harsh interrogation that he wanted to give her. She took a deep breath and replied slowly, as if she was afraid of saying something that would tip him off to a misdemeanour.

"I decided to… watch the patterns of my targets, see if I could find a point at which I could shoot them without alerting anyone else." She was lying, he could tell but it didn't really matter. He drew himself up to his full height and plucked a picture off of the pile next to her. He looked at it for a moment before meeting her eyes and turning it around, to show her the picture of the 'Hamas operative' Ziva David. Jennifer's eyes widened slightly, giving away her thoughts clearer than if she had spoken.

"This woman followed you back to the safe house today. Care to tell me how you managed to turn discreet surveillance into a game of cat and mouse?" she didn't answer him, her eyes wandering from his face to the window, surprise and annoyance flickering over her features before settling on resignation. He chuckled inwardly and reached out a hand, waiting for her to give him her gun. There was only one explanation for why she had been followed but not confronted, and that was if she had tried to shoot the Israeli and missed. Jennifer sighed loudly and dug into her bag, withdrawing her gun and placing it in Trent's outstretched hand.

He pulled his arm back and withdrew the clip from the gun, looking at the bullets and counting how many were missing. Three? What had she done, closed her eyes and pointed in their vague direction? What had happened to the gun expert from the firing range? He closed his eyes and then shook his head, pushing the clip back in the gun and then sitting down on the bed next to her. _Time to try the 'concerned brother who only wants the best for his sister' routine_.

"Jennifer, there are three bullets missing from this gun. Where are they?" he asked gently, keeping his eyes on the gun in his hand, avoiding putting pressure on her which would make her create a wild story that he already knew to be a lie.

"Opposite a coffee shop or in the NCIS forensic lab." she admitted quietly, rubbing her hands over her face tiredly. He looked at her incredulously.

"You _missed_ three times?" she flushed with embarrassment and indignation at his rude exclamation and anger began to push her closer to the end of her patience with her brother.

"Yes. They are fast!" she said defensively, as he rubbed his brow in irritation. _What do I do now?_ They would almost certainly know she was alive now, Ziva's careful response to getting closer to her showed that. He straightened up and decided that, for the good of the mission he would have to put her in the firing line. _Finally, I'll be getting rid of you_, he thought, carefully suppressing the cold smile he almost gave her. His time babysitting her was at an end and he couldn't be happier to see it go. If he ever volunteered for a mission like this again, he would shoot himself. He put his hand in his shirt pocket and withdrew the photograph he had been withholding from her, the one of Gibbs.

"We can no longer wait then. This is your target, even if you kill no one else, you _must_ kill him." she accepted the picture and looked at it, no recognition in her gaze and Trent smiled, pretending to be smiling to her, rather than at her. He would be glad to be rid of her and this would undoubtedly finish her off. Even if her memory came flooding back immediately after shooting him, she would have signed her death warrant, as his team would shoot her on sight. His associate would use his power in NCIS to have her killed rather than imprisoned if she got away unharmed, so she could never tell anyone what had happened to her.

"Ok, I'll do it tonight. Can I have my gun back?" she reached out for the gun and he handed it back to her, watching her put it back in her bag. He stood up and walked out of her room closing her door behind him.

--

Leon Vance took off his suit jacket and threw it angrily at the couch at the other end of his office before savagely kicking one of the chairs at the conference table. His toe connected painfully with the wood and he swore, trying to ignore the pain whilst limping around his desk. What was Gibbs' problem with him, and why the hell did he think he could get away with it? Leon sighed harshly, scrubbing his hands over his face and sitting heavily in his chair. He had earned this job, his blood, sweat and tears had gotten him where he was, rather than brown nosing his way up and sleeping with his boss like Jethro had been doing. Well he wasn't going to take the disrespect, if Gibbs kept on doing things without informing him, he would make good on his threat and fire him. Trying to get his team to spill secrets or supervise him was a mistake; they just rallied around him as if he was under attack.

The grief of bereavement would only get Jethro so far, and was the only reason he had put up with him for this long. He didn't even know if his grief was real, since no one seemed to be able to answer the question of how close Gibbs had been to Shepard. That he had carnal knowledge of her was glaringly obvious, what was not apparent however were the depths of his feelings. Leon had a wife whom he loved deeply, if he lost her he didn't know what he would do. He would probably try to carry on for his children, and if that was what Gibbs was going through then he could forgive his attitude and the slump he fell into. If not, he was just free riding on the grief of those around him, and that was inexcusable. Leon scoffed at himself, his thoughts getting ahead of him. For all he knew, Jethro had tricked his way into Jenny's bed and then held it over her to get his own way in the Agency. Her position as the first female Director was precarious enough without one of her agents spilling details of a torrid love affair. Conjecture, pure conjecture, he needed proof of what was wrong with Gibbs, so maybe he should talk to Dr. Mallard. He knew psychology so he could probably tell him what he needed to know.

His mind made up, Leon walked to his couch and picked up his jacket, putting it back on and withdrawing a toothpick from the pocket. He placed it in his mouth and chewed it thoughtfully. What could the Sec-Nav want with Gibbs? A knock at the door broke him from his musings and he called out for his visitor to enter.

"Come in." the Sec-Nav opened the door and stepped through, shutting it softly behind him. He glanced up and smiled, gesturing to the empty room.

"Leon, I hope I'm not disturbing you." The sarcasm and subtle humour was lost on Leon, his foul mood clouding his senses. He recovered from his shock and then patted the back of a chair.

"Not at all, sir. Please come in." the Sec-Nav did so, sitting in the chair opposite the Directors and making himself comfortable. An unsure look passed over his face and Leon knew that the coming conversation would not be good for him.

"I have just had a strange conversation with Agent Gibbs and his team. His findings are very worrying and I hoped you could shed some light on them."

"I'd like to sir, however Agent Gibbs sees fit to do what he likes when he likes, without informing me of anything."

"He says that you were involved in Jennifer Shepard's murder." Leon's jaw fell slack and he stared at the Sec-Nav for a few moments, his disbelief momentarily rendering him dumb, until he worked up enough incredulity to vent his anger.

"What?! That's ludicrous! Surely you don't believe that!" the Sec-Nav merely acknowledged his outburst with an inclined head and then held up a hand to forestall any more explosions.

"The evidence is damning, Leon." Vance shook his head and scoffed. Gibbs had put him at the centre of a conspiracy to kill Jenny and take her place, obviously the less than honourable intentions he had been thinking about earlier were true. Gibbs hadn't felt anything for Shepard; he was just using her, and now her memory to get what he wanted from NCIS. Even the Secretary of the Navy was falling for it.

"But sir-"

"I'm sorry, Leon. You will be taken into custody, but you will not be charged immediately." He stood and straightened his jacket. "I wish to review the evidence against you. When you are cleared, you will be free to pursue any retaliatory accusation against him." he gave Leon an encouraging smile and then opened the door, allowing two men to come in to escort him away to a holding cell, god only knows where. "Leon Vance you are hereby suspended…" Leon didn't hear the rest of what the Sec-Nav was saying, not that he even needed to hear it. He had said the same thing to Jenny Shepard last year, when she had been relieved over the La Grenouille murder. He just straightened his clothes and kept his head held high as he allowed himself to be taken away.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Warning: _Attempted_ Rape in the last part of this chapter. It's small but it is there. Just a warning.

Gibbs leaned back in his chair contentedly, having greatly enjoyed watching Vance being led away by armed men, the Sec-Nav following closely. He had made a speech to the NCIS employees, saying that Vance was being investigated in connection to a crime, but that he was innocent until proven guilty. Tony had shouted out that he was scum and they all knew he was guilty as sin, before being drowned out by the voices of the rest of NCIS, who were all agreeing with him. Jethro had never felt more proud of his team, and in fact everyone he worked with, than in that moment. They were all going out to celebrate that justice had been done to Vance and Gibbs had been invited, he had been floating on the high from the arrest, so he had agreed. Now though he wasn't so sure he wanted to go. He had a bottle of bourbon in his basement and a half finished, well mostly finished, _Kelly_ waiting for him to work on.

"Gibbs! Come on you'll be late!" Abby skipped up to his desk and excitedly jumped on the spot, her long black coat covering her tiny skirt, which Gibbs had been worrying about. Surely she must be freezing on a night out wearing something so short? It couldn't be healthy. The coat gave him a little more hope that Abby did actually take her health seriously, you should never disregard your body, you never know when you may contract a deadly illness… _She's not dead; she never had an illness, stop being silly!_ Gibbs blinked up in to Abby's animated face and then smiled despite himself. Her happiness was contagious.

"Yeah, Abby will drink all the booze if we don't get there fast." DiNozzo said pulling on his own coat, his head shooting forwards as Ziva slapped him. "Hey!" he spun around, disbelief etched on his face. Hadn't she just been in front of him putting her coat on? How the hell? Ziva chuckled and pulled her bag from her desk.

"You said you would come, Gibbs…" Abby's face fell as she realised he was wondering how he could get out of it and her expression took on that of a kicked dog. Gibbs felt his conscience scream at him and he realised she had him wrapped around her finger. He let out a sigh and she quite rightly took it as surrender. She began jumping up and down squealing gleefully again, grabbing a passing McGee and pulling him into a jumping Abby hug. Gibbs stood, taking pity on McGee, who looked like his head was being gradually uncorked in Abby's arms.

"Alright Abs, let's go."

--

Jenny brushed her hair, quickly pulling it up in a ponytail and pulling her hood up. She glanced at herself in the mirror to make sure her distinctive hair couldn't be seen and then smiled; putting her gun in her bag. If she was discovered, they wouldn't get a visual ID unless they got close enough to pull off her hood. She checked her concealed weapons just in case she needed them, the knife at her waist and the tiny blade in her boot present and accounted for. She packed the pictures of her targets, just in case she needed them and the extra ammo that Gregory had gotten for her, and then swung her bag over her shoulder. She was ready and this time she had no excuse for failure. Trent wanted them dead so she would kill them.

First up tonight was the Goth, she would be the easy target and once she was dead she would review her options. The girl tended to work late, although tonight she may be going to the pub with the other traitors. An inebriated target would be easy, they can't formulate an argument for why they should live and the girl had no danger senses like the Hamas terrorist. She walked through the door to her bedroom and flicked off the light, closing the door behind herself. She sneaked down the hallway and began to walk down the stairs, pausing when she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Three male voices, all familiar and yet she could only put a name to two; Trent and Gregory. What they were saying finally reached her ears and she became rooted to the stairs, straining to hear more. This was important and more than likely connected to her mission.

"…collected enough evidence to identify not only you, but Jenny as well." The strange voice said sternly, like he was scalding an errant child.

"I trust you stopped them pursuing us?" Trent said, the steel in his voice making it clear he didn't appreciate the new person's tone.

"Of course, but the damage is done. They got hold of the fake autopsy report and somehow discovered the drugs."

"How? You were supposed to sterilise the room and everything in it."

"I 'suggested' it to Vance. He thought it was symbolic." They shared a laugh. "The good news is they think he did it so we are safe for now."

"What are you going to do with him?" Gregory asked, a slight tremor in his voice, almost like he was empathising with this Vance.

"I'm keeping him in jail, what I do depends on how successful our little executioner is."

They began to move from the kitchen to the living room so Jenny sank back into the shadows and remained perfectly still as the men walked through the hall, past her hiding place. _That man_, she thought, _I know him, I'm sure I do_. He was quite tall and expensively dressed with the general air of the self important, who know they are invaluable. She narrowed her eyes at him, trying to remember where she had seen him before, but nothing came. She let out the breath she had been holding and carefully descended the rest of the stairs, pulling out her key and unlocking the door and then pausing to listen for discovery. The only sound was male laughter from the living room, so she pulled open the door and slipped out in to the night.

It was dark outside, not true dark though, the sun had barely set so there was still a little colour in the sky. Jenny took a deep breath of the cool crisp air and then set off towards the Navy yard. The pub they went to was quite close to work, so they would more than likely go together. She would have to watch and wait for the Goth girl to come out, and then she could follow her home, or take her out in the alleyway. Perhaps she could attract her attention and lead her away from the group. The walk was quite a long one and so Jenny couldn't help her mind wandering to the other targets.

Timothy; the man she had failed to shoot twice. She couldn't kill him then, she couldn't kill him now. The Hamas terrorist; she had tried to shoot her but missed, hitting another person by mistake. She refused to believe that she had aimed for the other person because it made no sense to her at all. Why would she do that? The Goth girl; she was her next target and there was nothing that could save her, she would make it quick so she couldn't speak or dodge. The Italian; she would have no difficulty taking him out; he seemed very superficial like he's hiding who he really is. And last but not least the mystery grey haired man; he seemed to be the leader of the terrorist traitors and he was the one Trent _needed_ her to kill. Well she was definitely going to go for him tonight; she wanted to prove herself to Trent, whose faith in her abilities was failing. Trent, he was another problem. She had brought a syringe with her in the hopes she could find out what it was. All she had to do was spill some at the scene of the murder of one of her targets and then listen for Trent's associate to tell them what they had found. She would know what to do then. If he was helping her with the drug, she would finally be able to put her mind at rest. If not, she would put a bullet in his head herself.

--

Abby knocked back another shot of the blue stuff, once again beating McGee, only Tony and Ziva were keeping up with her. Ziva carefully placed her glass back on the bar for a refill, the alcohol appearing to not have affected her at all. The bartender poured more in the shot glasses, this time something green. He said the name of it, but Abby wasn't listening to him. She reached for her glass, clanking it with the others, while trying to keep the liquid in the glass and giggling as the effects of ten shots made it seem like much more effort than it should be. Knocking back that one quickly, she grinned fully at the bartender, who smiled suggestively back. _Yikes that was fast_, she thought, the alcohol making the guy seem much more attractive than he would have been had she still been sober. McGee seemed to take offense at the guy's blatant interest and proceeded to drink Abby's next shot, which she didn't appreciate one bit. She stood up and grabbed his arm, pulling him to face her and angrily shouted at him.

"Hey! What did you do that for?" he stared her down for a second before losing his nerve and quietly mumbling something back. She blinked at him uncomprehendingly so he said it louder.

"I thought I saw him put something in it." her eyes widened a little in shock and gratitude until common sense penetrated her brain.

"So… why did you drink it?" McGee looked stricken for a moment, his head dropping in his hands.

"Oh no." Abby pulled him into a hug and then waved Gibbs over to her. He nodded in acknowledgement and she signed to him what had happened. He stood up and walked to them, the anger radiating from him seeming to part the drunks like the red sea, so he didn't even get jostled.

"I'll take him home; you can come with me too. I'll drop you off on the way."

"No Gibbs, I don't want to go home yet! I'll stay here with Tony and Ziva." At Gibbs' less than happy glare at his very fresh Senior Field Agent, Abby hastily added. "And Ducky, I'll stay with Ducky!" the old ME raised a small glass of Scotch to him, his hand steady and his mind clear, making Gibbs waver. "I promise I'll be good." The innocent statement made him agree and Abby cheered, dashing over to Ducky before Gibbs changed his mind. She watched him walk out with McGee and then quietly told Ducky what had happened.

"Ah, well I think it is about time our Agents did some arresting then, don't you?" he tapped Tony's shoulder and whispered in his ear, making the young man jump up from his seat and turn a concerned eye on her.

"You ok Abby?" she nodded and he returned the gesture, whispering loudly in Ziva's ear, the two rounding the bar from opposite ends so the tender couldn't escape.

The tender looked up just then and saw them advancing. He knew who they were so he didn't even give them a second glance as he vaulted the bar and raced out the door. Tony and Ziva raced after him and Abby decided to join them. She never got to see the good stuff, the arrests and the chases, this would be fun! Her fuzzy mind told her that was an excellent decision so she ran out in to the night after them, Ducky calling her name. She ignored him and ran down the alleyway opposite the bar, where the guy _must_ have gone. She ran for a few minutes until she realised she couldn't hear anyone around her. In fact, there was no noise at all, except the distant sound of cars.

"Darn, lost them!" she cursed and turned around, wondering where exactly she was. _Oh god I'm lost, Gibbs is going to kill me…_ She started back down the alley she had just run down, not sure how far she had come from the bar. She reached into her pocket for her phone, only to realise she wasn't wearing her coat and therefore didn't have a pocket. Just then a shuffle to her left made her spin around and a figure emerged from the shadows, the light spilling on quite a large man.

"You lost honey?" Abby's blood ran cold and she did a quick inventory of what she had with her. A short sleeved shirt and a mini skirt. Shit. She hadn't even worn the one with a chain around it; she would then have at least had some sort of weapon. The guy moved closer and looked around, noting that she was alone. Very alone. Abby moved away from him slowly, trying to make her way to the exit of the alleyway. He stalked closer to her, his casual lope making Abby even more terrified. That was not the walk of someone who hadn't done this before. She had picked a bad time to run away from the pub. Gibbs and McGee were gone, Tony and Ziva were chasing someone and Ducky was old and quite slow. Even if he was following her, he wouldn't get there in time to save her. She felt a scream bubbling up in her throat as the guy decided he had had enough fun intimidating her and walked straight for her. Abby turned and bolted for safety, knowing she wouldn't make it. The guy grabbed her from behind a second later, her scream finally ripping its way out of her throat as he threw his weight on her, pushing her to the floor. He pulled her around on to her back and covered her mouth with his hand, his other trying to catch both her arms and pin them above her head.

"Shhh there's no one around. Who do you think can hear you? The only people around here are more like me. Want me to share you with them?" she shook her head, tears running from her eyes as his twisted logic entered her mind. She didn't want this to happen even once, more would be unbearable.

He grabbed her short skirt and made as if he was going to pull it off, but an ear shattering sound made him stop. He sat up and put a shaking hand to his neck, where Abby realised blood was pouring out of a small hole. She screamed again and wriggled away from him, trying to avoid the blood that was splattering her. He choked and then fell sideways, his choking stopping and his eyes fixing on a point somewhere above her head before closing, his breathing stopping completely. Abby stared at him her sobs loud in the night. She turned around looking for the person that had saved her from a fate worse than death and spotted another figure in the darkness. She shrank back, the man's words of others like him resounding in her head until she realised the figure was a woman. The gun was still raised, in no particular direction but ready to fire again regardless. In that second Abby realised who it was and said the first thing that came to mind, and coincidentally, the only thing that would save her from being shot.

"Mommy?" the gun lowered as the figure recoiled and then ran away. At first Abby thought she had scared her away, but then a sound penetrated her ears.

"Abigail?!" Ducky was calling her name frantically, footfalls loud and regular were approaching her position and she realised there were too many to be just Ducky. She froze up again. Was she going to get Ducky killed by the other rapists out tonight?

"Abby! Abby?" Ziva and Tony were calling for her too. She tried to shout out to them, to let them know where she was but she couldn't. She was shaking and her throat was tight with crying, the last thing she saw before passing out was her family running towards her from the alley mouth.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Ziva had known that tonight was going to be a bad one, call it women's intuition or just a good sense of bad luck, but she had instinctively known. When the bartender had tried to slip Abby something she had thought that he was the source of this gut feeling and so she had tried her best to take him down quickly. However, when she and Tony had caught him trying to sneak around the back of the pub and then heard Ducky calling Abby's name, she had realised she was wrong. Both her and Tony had dragged the bartender back to the pub and left him with some other members of NCIS, who would make sure he was taken into custody, and then they had run after Ducky, following his voice until they found him trying his best to run down the alley opposite the pub. He had explained that Abby had run out after them, trying to follow them so she could watch the arrest, but she had gone in the wrong direction. With so many alleyways to take to find her, they had decided to run down one each just to increase their chances. Then she had screamed. The sound had been one of pure terror and Ziva had sped through the dark alleys as fast as she could. She had thought that she would never hear a worse sound, but once again she was wrong. A gunshot sounded loud in the night, echoing through the alleyways towards her. She had sped as fast as her legs could go, hoping against hope that she would arrive in time to save the bubbly Goth. Another scream was heard, this one slightly more hysterical than the first, and Ziva pushed herself to breaking point. That was where she was now, running full pelt down an alley, hoping that this one was where Abby was.

"Abby!" she called, hoping that shouting her name would let her know someone was coming to help her, so she would hold on. She heard Tony and Ducky doing the same and she concentrated on the path ahead of her. She flew out of the alley and into another, Tony joining her, since his alley had turned in to a dead end. They pounded up the tarmac, heads turning wildly to catch a glimpse of the girl, trying not to miss her black clad body in the shadows. At last they flew out of the alley and into another, this one with two bodies already in it. One was an unknown man; the other was Abby, who passed out as they watched.

"Oh God, no." Tony mumbled his breathing ragged and he instantly dropped to his knees by Abby's side. Ziva pulled the man over on to his back, his head on her leg in case he was alive and checked for his pulse, pulling her hand back instantly when she found warm blood coating his neck. He was the one who had been shot, but Abby didn't carry a gun, did she? Ziva looked over at Tony and Abby, watching as he pulled her up off the ground and into his arms, checking to see where the blood that covered her was coming from. Just then Ducky appeared, his breathing so laboured that Ziva was actually momentarily more concerned for him than Abby. He waved at them, his breathing making it impossible for him to speak and then he calmly walked towards them, dropping to his knees when he got close enough. He looked Abby over and shook his head, trying to control his breathing.

"Not… her… blood…" he tried to take deep breaths and then coughed.

"You ok Ducky? Do you need to lie down?" Tony asked the elderly ME, thoughts of heart attack and how long it would take an ambulance crew to get here giving him a stab of fear. Ducky just shook his head and gave them a smile.

"My physique may be… a little podgy, but… I am actually very fit… for my age. I… just don't usually indulge in… sprints." His breathing was getting better so Tony accepted his words, his grip on Abby not lessoning. She could still be hurt, and the fact a guy was dead in the alley with her was giving him some awful images. Ducky checked over the guy and gave him a rather uncharacteristic dismissive wave. "He was shot in the neck from an angle. Someone stood above him and shot him."

"So we are looking for a really tall person?" Tony asked, hoping against hope that what he was thinking Ducky meant, wasn't actually true.

"No, the man was on the floor when he was shot and from the blood splatter on Abby, I would say he was on top of her." Ziva instantly dropped the guy's body and kicked it aside, not really caring that she was supposed to respect the dead. That man didn't deserve to be treated with respect. She briefly considered leaving the body here to decompose rather than letting Ducky take it back to the morgue, although he didn't seem inclined to do so. They all gathered around Abby, helping Tony lift her carefully in his arms so he could carry her back to the pub. They'd get a car from there and take her home, or to Gibbs' house, since he would be distraught when he heard what had happened to her.

Ziva watched Tony go and then she looked around the floor, looking for bullet casings and telltale signs of who the other person had been, whilst Ducky secured the body of the man. Perhaps it had been someone who knew the man and had caught him trying to hurt Abby, or just a passerby with a gun, someone who couldn't believe they had killed someone and then fled the scene. Something in her told her that wasn't the case, so she cast her eyes further around the alley, into the shadows. A glittering object caught her attention and she bent down to it. A bullet casing, the same type as the ones left at the scene of McGee's shooting. So, _she_ had been here… Ziva did a double take as her eyes found a black object in the darkness, and she reached out to it, pulling it towards her. It was a ladies black shoulder bag. She opened it and looked inside, carefully emptying the contents on the tarmac. A couple of extra gun clips, a syringe, a pile of photos, a compact and a hair band. Ziva picked up the photos and looked through them her eyes widening as she saw they were photos of the team. Jenny knew them, why would she need pictures of them? They weren't pictures to reminisce about though, they were covert surveillance photos. What was going on? Ziva put the photos back in the bag, along with the compact and the hair band. She looked over the gun clips before putting them back in too. The syringe was a mystery. Jenny wasn't a diabetic so she didn't carry insulin, and as far as Ziva knew, she didn't have any other condition that required self injection.

"Ducky? What is in this syringe?" Ziva held out the syringe to the doctor and he moved closer, squinting at the liquid.

"I'm afraid I can't say Ziva. There are many different things that are colourless like this. We will have to test it back at NCIS." Ziva nodded and placed the syringe carefully back in the bag. "What have you got there?"

"A woman's bag. I believe that it was Jenny who shot that man. The bullet casings are the same as the ones left at the scene of McGee's near shooting."

"If that is so, why did she shoot at you and Timothy, but not at Abby? It wasn't as if Abby had a weapon, or any other way to defend herself."

"We will have to speak to Abby once she awakens." They both agreed and then left the alley, taking the evidence they had collected with them, returning to Abby's side at the pub. They decided to call Gibbs on the way there, just to make sure he was home, and then they all piled into their cars, the most sober of them driving.

--

Jenny ran away from the alleyway as fast as she could, her destination unclear, all she was thinking about was not staying near that girl and her friends. She wasn't sure how long she ran for or how far she went, and really she didn't care; she just wanted to escape the lies. Everything she thought she knew was being unravelled at the seams, and she wasn't sure who to trust. The things Trent had told her were being proven wrong by her own mind, which conjured memories at the worst possible times, and the people he was trying to make her kill who appeared to be exactly what they seemed; innocent. She stopped running then, unable to carry on because her legs were about to give way. She doubled over to catch her breath and then curled up into a ball, tears spilling from her confused eyes. _What the hell am I doing?_ She had thought tonight would be simple. She could kill the Goth and then take out the boss, plant the syringe so she could find out what was in it and then go back to Trent, reporting a job well done. Now she didn't even want to _see_ Trent again, her mind no longer able to ignore the signs telling her he wasn't who he said he was. What kind of brother would send her to kill her own daughter? She wiped her eyes as she thought of how close she had come to pulling the trigger on the young girl, having saved her only as a courtesy. No woman could stand by and let something like that happen right in front of their eyes, but she had still been about to shoot the girl, her life now belonging to her.

Jenny snuffled into her sleeve as a fresh wave of tears came. Why hadn't she remembered she had a daughter before tonight? Why did she have to have a memory about her when she was at the other end of her gun barrel? Just after the girl had called her mommy, she had heard something else. It was almost as if the girl had carried on speaking, just inside her head instead of out loud. Her lips hadn't moved and yet Jenny had distinctly heard her say 'The kids don't like it when mommy and daddy fight.' It had been so intense that she couldn't help but recoil in horror as she saw what she was doing through new eyes. She was holding her little girl at gun point after she had suffered a shock and terror so complete, that she hardly even reacted to her own mother waving a weapon in her direction. She had been so disgusted with herself, and she had intended to go to the girl, to make sure she was alright but she had heard her friends calling to her.

She sobbed harder, what kind of mother couldn't even recall her daughter's name? She couldn't remember anything about her, what her favourite colour was (though she would hazard a guess at black or red), where she had been born, how old she was, who her father was. Jenny swallowed as another thought hit her, did she have a husband somewhere, waiting for some news of her whereabouts? Other children? A house? Hell, did she have a cat that needed feeding somewhere that only she knew about? Why couldn't she remember?!

She growled in frustration and pulled her head out of the crook of her arm, looking at her surroundings for the first time. She was in the middle of a residential estate, just down the side of one of the houses. She looked behind her, noticing a gate that she must have climbed over to get there, but having no recollection of doing so. She stood up cautiously, not sure if any of the houses had garden alarms or flood lights. The last thing she wanted to do was alert the house owners to her presence. She walked out of the garden slowly, moving faster once she was off of someone else's property and took a good look around. This place seemed familiar but she couldn't place it. She shrugged, putting it down to how many housing estates there were in DC. Setting off at a fast walk, she rounded the corner of the estate, walking on to another, the feeling of déjà vu becoming stronger. Where was she going? She carried on following the feeling of familiarity, hoping it would lead her to something she could actually remember. Then she stopped outside a house and looked up at it, the feeling finally settling into certainty. This house was very well-known to her. She concentrated as hard as she could on the memory that waited just out of her grasp. This was the house of someone she knew… someone who knew her well… she gritted her teeth and reached for her bag only to find it was gone. She froze in panic; she must have lost it at the scene of her daughters attack. Damn. She didn't have her extra ammo, she was down to two bullets, and if she got in a fight she would be out gunned very quickly. Perhaps this house had ammo or another gun. If she knew the house then surely going in for a quick look around wouldn't be bad.

Jenny grinned and walked slowly up the path to the door, looking around warily before trying the handle. It was open. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly and walked in, shutting it behind her. _He never locks his door_. She froze, how did she know that, but not who owned the house? Angry with herself for her inability to do anything right, she sighed and closed her eyes. She just had to calm down. She took deep breaths and tried to lower her heart rate. She opened her eyes when she had sufficiently calmed and then she moved along the corridor. There was a light on somewhere, a sliver of illumination painting the corridor ahead of her slightly. She moved more cautiously, a light may mean someone was home and she still wasn't sure if she would be welcome.

Suddenly she heard rapid footfalls from behind the door, getting closer so fast she panicked and jumped through another doorway, relieved to find it completely dark. The door flew open and the footfalls grew louder, passing her hiding place quickly and moving straight to the door. She risked a glance from her hiding place and saw the back of a man, his silver hair bright in the darkness. He didn't seem to notice someone had just walked in to his house, even though something inside her told her he should have been able to hear her. She pulled her head back and heard the front door open and then close again and she waited for a few minutes to see if he would come back in. He didn't and she let out a steady breath of relief. _That was close_.

Jenny took the opportunity that having the house to herself provided, and moved out of her hiding place, no longer as careful now that she was sure no one would hear her. She walked swiftly to the door the person had just come out of and looked around it, surprised to see it lead to a basement. She looked behind her to see if there was any movement near the door, and then carefully walked through it. There was a set of wooden stairs leading down in to what would usually be a spacious basement; however this one was taken up with a large boat like structure. In fact it _was_ a boat she saw, as she descended the stairs and wandered over to it. it was handmade, the tools for the woodworking laying strewn around by a work bench, some hung up, some just where they had been thrown. There was also a couple of bottles of alcohol stashed up with what looked like paint stripper. She shook her head wondering why he would put those together. She shrugged, a small smile playing around her lips. It was probably a statement of the strength.

The boat caught her attention again and she walked towards it, reaching out a hand to touch the wax smoothed surface of the hull. He definitely knew how to build a sea worthy craft, there didn't seem to be any rough spots at all. She walked around the boat, taking it all in and then she saw the black lettering on it. _Kelly_. Even that name was recognizable to her. It meant something to her and obviously to this man. What was it? Who was it? She gave up thinking, annoyed at her lack of progress and walked casually back to the work bench, casting her eye all around it. There was a box, the size of one that usually held a wide screen TV, just under there, concealed behind bits of left over wood. She crouched down and pulled it out, carefully trying not to move the wood in case the man could tell if it was moved. Putting it on the bench, she looked around again, listening to see if she could hear any movement. Nothing. She pulled the top off the box and looked inside, curious at what it could be.

Her eyebrows knitted together as she lifted out a blue and red ladies shirt which was wrapped inside a clear plastic bag, mystified at why he would keep something like that in his basement. Then she really looked at the shirt. It was primarily blue in colour, the red appeared to be randomly placed until she realised it was mostly surrounding four holes, with a large swathe down the right side and on the back. It was blood. Jenny's eyes grew wide in shock and she knew, she just _knew,_ that the shirt was hers. She closed her eyes and held it up to her body, her hands shaking and her mind rebelling. _Just put it back and leave_, part of her thought, _Trent will be looking for you. Does it matter if the shirt is yours? They still betrayed you_. She hesitated, unsure. _Just put it to your body, you need to know_, another part whispered, _besides, Trent has been lying to you from the start, what difference would this really make_? She took a deep breath and pulled it flush to her body, opening her eyes and looking down before she could cave in to her fear. The holes in the shirt corresponded to the bullet wounds on her body perfectly. She gasped and threw the shirt back in the box, turning it over in the process, so that the label on the evidence bag was facing her, the name on it staring her in the face. _Jennifer Shepard_. Her mind whirled; a mess of memories that suddenly decided now was a good time to assault her.

"_So you're the overzealous fed that nearly mucked up eighteen months of undercover work." The CIA Agent and handler for La Grenouille, Trent Kort, said to her, sitting opposite her in a car and oozing irritation. "I prefer to think of it as doing my job." She responded smartly, enjoying the flicker of annoyance on his face. "Jethro." said an older man who sat next to him. He spoke to whoever was sitting next to her and she kept her head straight, watching Kort as Jethro responded. "I'm not my Director's keeper, Tobias." The scene changed and she was lying in bed, having just woken up after the shooting. "If you are my brother, is my last name Kort?" Trent smiled at her reassuringly and nodded. "Of course it is. What else would it be?" The scene changed again and she was back in the darkened alley, in a strange city with the faceless, blue eyed man, only this time she could see his hair. His brown hair, streaked with silver. He turned to look at her as they wrapped their arms around the heads of the guards, their eyes meeting and a thrill coursing through her. Again the scene changed. She was walking towards the Israeli woman, who was coming to meet her halfway in a squad room. "Shalom Jenny." the woman said warmly, and she responded in kind. "Shalom Ziva." They kissed each others cheeks and then talked about an Op that they had worked on together, the sounds receding as the scene changed again. This time she was in a stuffy little attic, the air close and warm. The blue eyed man was beneath her on a bed, his arms circling her waist as he moved, rolling them over so he could better control the speed of their love making, her fingers gripping his arms as he picked up the pace. Again the scene changed and she was standing in the doorway of a large house, the lights dim and the same man before her. She spoke to him softly. "I'd forgotten." He looked at her questioningly so she continued. "How good you are with kids." _

Jenny was then catapulted back to the present with one sentence reverberating in her mind._ "The kids don't like it when mommy and daddy fight."_ She took a deep steadying breath as her confusion turned into a full blown panic attack and she sat on the stool in front of the work bench, trying to control her breathing. Nothing she had been told was true, Trent had lied to her. She wasn't even sure if he had told her a single truth! Who was he really? Who was she?! Jenny closed her eyes and put a hand to her heart, trying to count her heart beats as she attempted to bring it down and slow her gasping. It took a few minutes but she was successful and she jumped up, quickly tossing the box back under the desk, and walking quickly towards the stairs. She had to get out of here, she had to leave. Just then she heard the front door swing open and loud voices echoed down to her. He was back, and he had company.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Well this chapter is three times as long as what I usually submit, so I decided to give it to you a day early. My uncle's funeral was today so I just need to cheer myself up. Hopefully this will cheer you up too. Thank you everyone who reads this story and especially those who review it, favourite and alert it, you make my day!

Gibbs stood on his doorstep, watching the deserted street for any sign of the cars that he knew were on their way. Tony had called him, telling him something terrible had happened to Abby. His stomach clenched again as that ominous statement revolved around his head, his years of being a field Agent supplying images of all the terrible things that could have happened to her. He should have made her come with him when he had taken McGee home, he shouldn't have taken no for an answer! He stood at the end of his driveway and alternated between wringing his hands and curling them into fists. Why couldn't they have just said what had happened to her? He wouldn't be needlessly torturing himself with hellish images then; _I mean how much trouble could Abby get in to, really? _His stomach clenched and he couldn't help but recall that the victims are usually only guilty of being too trusting, anything could have happened and who knew what state she would be in when she got here. He was saved from worrying any further by the screech of brakes as Ziva's mini pulled, well skidded, around the corner and raced up towards his drive. Tony's car appeared a few seconds later, with Ducky's Morgan a few minutes later, actually abiding by the traffic laws. Gibbs had never been so glad that Ziva was the worst driver on the face of the planet, she was the fastest and that was all that mattered.

Ziva jumped out of her car the moment the engine died and ran over to Tony's car, helping him to pull a shaky Abby out of the back seat, and then they wrapped their arms around her. That was when Gibbs noticed Abby wasn't shaky, she was unconscious! He dropped the pretence of being calm and collected and dashed over to them, pulling Abby up into his arms so he could carry her inside. He felt something wet on her and looked at her more closely, his heart almost stopping when he recognised not only the sight, but the horrible metallic smell too. Abby was covered in blood.

"What the hell happened?!" he glared wide eyed at his two top Agents, his voice as near to terrified as it would ever get, and they gazed back, not in fear as they would usually, but in understanding and guilt.

"We tried to arrest the bar tender but he saw us coming and ran out of the pub. We ran after him and caught him around the back. Abby followed us but went in the wrong direction." Ziva exchanged a look with Tony and then looked over to where Ducky was parking. "We followed her screams and a gunshot to an alley and found her there with a dead man. We… we think he was shot because he was trying to… rape her." Gibbs pulled Abby closer to his chest protectively, not really able to grasp that someone had tried to do that to the young girl he thought of as a daughter.

"Who shot him?" Ziva ducked her head and then made her decision. She didn't want to reveal Jenny's involvement to Gibbs, but he would find out anyway. She would tell him later.

"We should get her inside; I will tell you what I found at the scene when you are both comfortable." Gibbs turned on his heel and marched up to his front door, Tony running to get the door open for him before he could reach it. Ziva waited for Ducky's approach and then they turned to follow Gibbs inside.

"What are you going to tell him?" Ducky asked quietly, and Ziva sighed.

"I am unsure. I would like to know what is in that syringe first. Would you join me at NCIS to test it?" she looked at Ducky and he smiled reassuringly in response.

"Of course my dear, although I'm not quite sure what you expect to find." He was being careful, not wanting both Jethro and Ziva to get their hopes up about finding Jenny whole and just how they remember her. If anything, this case was making it very clear that she wasn't acting as she normally would. He would relish the chance to speak to her first, just so he could warn the others about her state of mind if she was not herself.

"Hopefully something that will make all of this much clearer." Ducky raised an eyebrow but said nothing further as they entered the house.

--

"I never should have left her with you; I should have brought her home!" Gibbs said angrily, barging past Tony and walking over to the stairs at the end of the hall. Tony shook his head, knowing that Gibbs wasn't blaming him and Ziva, he was blaming himself.

"There was no way to know a rapist would be around _this_ night, in _those_ alleyways. Besides, he's dead now, where as any other woman he found would more than likely have been defiled and then left where he assaulted them, so he could find another victim. He can't hurt anyone else now, so something good came out of it." Gibbs grunted, not refuting his words, but not agreeing either.

Gibbs carried Abby all the way up the stairs to his bedroom, placing her carefully on the bed and then looking around for anything that would be fit for her to wear. Tony walked in behind him, whistling at the uninhabited look of the room.

"Maybe we should've given the place a bit of a dusting down first." He tried to bring a little humour to the situation but a glare from Gibbs quieted him immediately. They both realised at the same time that Abby would not want to wake up covered in blood, and they both also realised that neither of them was willing to bathe her. Tony just clicked his fingers and then called for Ziva and Ducky. A woman and a doctor, probably the only two people she would be comfortable with in that situation. "Ziva? Ducky? A little help, please?"

--

Jenny backed away from the stairs as quietly as she could and reached for her gun, pulling it out of her pocket. They seemed to be going upstairs, but she wasn't taking any chances. She looked around the room for a hiding place, but the only thing big enough to hide in was the boat. If he looked in there she would be trapped with no other exit. She rounded the boat and decided that she would just try and stay on the opposite side to the one he was on, although if any of his friends came down with him she might be out of luck. The fact she only had two bullets weighed heavily on her mind, and she wasn't sure that she would make it out if it came to a fight. She wasn't strong enough to fight off an opponent in hand to hand combat either, so her gun was her only asset.

"Ziva? Ducky? A little help, please?" a loud voice echoed down to her and she almost sighed in relief. They would all be going upstairs; she would get the chance to escape! She walked towards the stairs again, and then climbed up halfway, ready to seize her chance. Ziva, that name was familiar, hadn't she said that in one of her memories? Yes, it was the Israeli, the Hamas terrorist… or was she really a Mossad operative? Jenny squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to focus on the only memory she had that could possibly tell her more about the woman. She remembered the greeting; it was a friendly gesture to kiss each others cheeks, yet quite formal. They seemed to be good friends so why would Ziva be uncomfortable around her? Had something happened to unbalance their friendship? She concentrated harder and suddenly recalled what her title was; _Director_. Yes… so she had been promoted. She wasn't Ziva's partner anymore; she was her superior, which put her on edge, but why? What decision was it that she could make that would hurt Ziva?

The footsteps of Ziva and Ducky receded up the stairs and Jenny carefully ascended the wooden basement steps, abandoning her efforts to remember more in favour of escaping. She reached the top and held out her hand to push the door open. She paused before she did so, and that was when she heard a quiet shuffling, almost like someone was trying to sneak up on her. Jenny froze for a moment and then darted back down the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could, hiding around the side of the boat just in time, as the door to the basement opened and a man looked in, scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary. She only allowed herself one look before hiding completely and relying on her hearing. It was the silver haired man, he scanned the room slowly, taking in everything about it before turning around and closing the door. He didn't move away from it though and Jenny's breathing became ragged. _He must know someone is here_, she thought, _there is no other reason for him to suddenly be so concerned about keeping certain doors in check_. She had been discovered, or at least soon would be. She pulled the safety off of her gun and readied it to fire, the dull click hopefully muffled from his senses by the door and the size of the room.

--

Gibbs watched as Ziva and Ducky entered the room and then he motioned to Tony, telling him to leave with him. The two walked out of the bedroom and then down the stairs, Tony walking into the kitchen and leaving Gibbs to brood. He couldn't believe this had happened, or nearly happened, to Abby. She was such an innocent, who could do such a monstrous thing to her? He put his head in his hands and took a deep steadying breath… and that was when he smelt it: Perfume. It was the aroma he had picked up off of the glass that Cynthia had kept sealed in a bag, Jenny's scent. He looked up sharply, his arms returned to his sides and he turned his head quickly, looking for her in the house. She couldn't have come in without being noticed by Ziva or Ducky, so she must have been in for a while. The fact that he could still smell her said that she hadn't been in long though. So she must have entered his house before he came out of his basement. He cursed under his breath, he had thought he could hear something, but his mind had been focussed on Tony's voice telling him about Abby. He should have listened to his instincts when he had been about to open the door, when he had felt eyes on him but had just attributed it to his nervousness over Abby's condition.

Jethro knew that if Tony walked in right now, he would think he was mad, but he didn't care. He sniffed the air, trying to pinpoint where the scent originated. He crept to the front door and sure enough, he could only just pick it up there. He turned and followed it to the kitchen, careful not to disturb DiNozzo, and then bent lower, sneaking over to the door to the basement. That was where she was, he was certain of it. He stalked closer and then his suspicions became more solid; he heard soft footsteps retreat further into his basement. She must have been about to come out. Gibbs pulled out his gun and reached out to the door, slowly pushing it open and poking his head in, scanning the room carefully, looking for any sign that she really was there, that he wasn't actually going mad. He found it.

The box under his work bench had been moved, the lid was half off and he could just see the red and blue of the shirt Jenny had been shot in, peeking out. Oh she was in there, and there was only one place to hide. His boat was the only thing that provided any cover down there. She was trapped and she knew it. He smiled grimly and then stepped back out of the basement, pulling the door closed behind him. There was no way she was getting past him until they'd had a little talk. He turned away from the door and looked around, catching the worried-for-his-sanity look that was crossing DiNozzo's face. Tony grinned as he realised he had been caught and then shrugged, keeping his head away from his boss.

"You ok, boss?"

"Just fine DiNozzo. Why don't you take Ziva and Ducky back to NCIS? Get that son of a bitch's body processed as soon as possible."

"Alright." Tony wasn't as stupid as he sometimes made out though, and his eyes strayed to the closed basement door and the gun in his hand, before he walked up the stairs to collect Ziva and Ducky. Gibbs let out a breath, proud that Tony had noticed something was wrong, but worried that they could all be used against him if Jenny had back up. So what was he to do with Abby? They couldn't move her, she would want a safe place to wake up in and he wanted that place to be here. Alright, it was a selfish notion, but she was as close to a daughter as he would ever get now. He wanted to look after her. He would just make sure Jenny didn't know she was here, so she couldn't threaten her life. Just then, he heard a click from in his basement; it was a sound he knew well, the sound of a gun cocking. He was reminded of cornering a wild animal. Once they see they are trapped, they fight for their lives. Jenny must have realised he knew she was there and she felt threatened. If he had needed anymore proof she wasn't the woman he loved, this was it. Tony, Ducky and Ziva appeared a few moments later, their stuff ready as they prepared to go back to work. Ziva and Ducky in particular seemed eager to return to NCIS, so he didn't keep them any longer.

"Well, thank you for bringing her here, make sure you get that guy written up for his crime. He might be dead, but a lot of women could have been hurt by him. With him dead and his crimes revealed, they may be more inclined to report what has happened to them." Ducky smiled at him, he would have done so anyway, but Jethro was just showing them how much this had hurt him, so the team would know he cared about them all without actually saying it. He sighed; Jethro was quite a complicated man.

"Yes boss." Tony and Ziva said at the same time and he nodded to them, watching them all file out of his house.

Jethro took a deep breath and then slowly opened the door to the basement, stepping in and keeping his gun at the ready. He had left his light on, so he could see most of the room, the shadows cast by his boat being the longest and darkest. He closed the door behind him and carefully made his way down the stairs, his gun trained on the boat, waiting to see if she would seize the initiative and fire at him while he wasn't in cover. He made it to the bottom of the stairs and she still hadn't fired or revealed herself. _Probably hoping I will think I was mistaken about an intruder, not going to happen Jenny_. He stopped at the foot of the stairs and leaned casually on the banister, listening for her breathing. His eyesight might be going, but his hearing was exceptional. There… he could just make out her rapid panting. He didn't think she been doing any exercise down here, so that meant she was panicking. Jethro smiled slightly, she was well aware of how easily he could kill; he had been a marine sniper, he had been to war and he had almost fifteen years of experience as a field agent under his belt. She was right to be scared, it just didn't seem in character to him. She had faced down four gun men armed with automatic weapons at that diner, she hadn't been so scared then, he just knew it. So why was she now? _She just hasn't ever been on the opposite side before_. He gritted his teeth for a moment and tried to reign in his anger at the woman he had once trusted with his life, the same woman who had been attacking his surrogate family, the family she had been the mother figure for. _Wishing you was still on my side, Jen?_

"Come on out."

--

Jenny tried to stop her hand shaking, but it was proving to be very difficult, since the rest of her was shaking too. She was frightened and the thought of being as vulnerable as she was just scared her more, especially since she now knew Trent had lied to her about everything. She wasn't an Assassin; she was some sort of politician bureaucrat that has probably never _seen_ a gun before, until she was shot. A sense of hopelessness gripped her and she felt her hand start to shake more. Why bother with this? She was obviously doing more harm than good; she had been shooting at innocent people. They were lucky she was such a bad shot, or she could have actually hurt someone. She almost scoffed, but managed to keep it to just a hitch in her breathing, why should she carry on hiding? It wasn't like she'd hit him if she _did_ shoot at him. She heard the guy stop coming down the stairs and then something gave a rather wooden groan. He must have sat on a wood chair or something; she risked a glance around the boat, but stopped herself before she actually looked further than was necessary to see his shadow on the floor. He wasn't sitting, he was leaning. What was he waiting for? She only had two bullets and her run of luck said she would miss him with both. If he walked around the boat and grabbed her, she knew she wouldn't be able to throw him off like she could with Gregory, and her bullet wounds, plus the fact she had run here from the alley where her daughter had been attacked, would make her the slowest of the two if she ran for it. She was well and truly trapped; she may as well give up now.

Jenny took a deep breath and attempted to stop herself from thinking for a moment. Her pessimistic thoughts were just making her worse and she was beginning to feel light headed from breathing so rapidly. She must be close to hyperventilating. She grinned suddenly at the ridiculous image of fainting before either of them even got a good look at each other. Trent would be so disappointed. She almost gave in to the impulse to do it, just to piss him off but she was brought up short by the man's voice.

"Come on out."

Her breathing stopped for a moment and a sudden swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She pulled her gun back up and took a deep breath, this time trying to hold it so she could actually put up a brave front. Then she rounded the boat, her gun raised at him, his at her. Jenny's eyes widened slightly in recognition, it was the blue eyed man from her memories! The one she had killed those sentries with, the one she had made love with, the one she had spoken of children with. The one Trent was most desperate to have killed. He cleared his throat and she realised that she had been gazing at him for quite a while. She felt a blush rise on her cheeks and gripped her gun more firmly. The man had a name, she was sure that his voice was the same as the one she remembered. _'I'm not my Director's keeper, Tobias.'_ The man, Tobias, had called him Jethro, hadn't he?

"You're Jethro?" she asked, her gaze never wavering from his face. He narrowed his eyes at her and he looked momentarily confused, but he quickly erased the emotion from his face, so she wasn't sure if she had just imagined it. Her eyes darted up to the exit and then back to him, her other hand clenching and unclenching by her side, the only indication of her terror. He was very self assured; he hadn't straightened his posture or looked at her like she was even a threat to him.

"And you are?" he asked, demanding an answer by shifting his weight slightly. Before she was aware of it, she had taken a few steps back from him, almost sure he was about to pounce on her. He raised an eyebrow at her edginess, but said nothing.

"Jenny Ko- er, just Jenny." she shot a glance at the box under the work bench, thinking about how alien the name Shepard was to her, but no longer willing to call herself Kort. Jethro seemed to pick up on her slip however and his eyes seemed to follow her every move, which was very unsettling.

"Kort? Jenny _Kort_?" he seemed incredulous and for a moment she flared with indignation. How dare he say her name like it was repulsive to him! Just who did he think he was? "So Trent is your husband then?"

"Ugh no, that's just disgusting. I'm his sister." _Was that relief in his eyes?_

"Right, well Jenny, do you want to tell me why you have been shooting at my team?" She averted her eyes guiltily, shame over her actions flooding her body and causing her to blush. _Stop_, her mind told her, _you have just as much right to answers as he does. Don't let him get under your skin, you need to stand firm_. She nodded to herself and pushed her guilt away, wrapping her anger around herself as a shield and stared him straight in the eye, raising an eyebrow as she posed her own question. One that was the most important to her, the reason she was even in a position to be lied to by Trent.

"That depends. Do you want to tell me why you and your team shot me and left me for dead?" she needed to know why she had four wounds in her body, impairing her ability to move until her muscles fully heal and they became four large white scars.

--

Gibbs stared at Jenny in disbelief. She thought he had shot her? She thought they had left her to die in LA? He said nothing for a moment as he attempted to find his voice and reorder his thoughts. This was not what he was expecting when he finally caught up with her. He had thought she had just gone rogue, taken exception to him and his team and decided to take them out, maybe in revenge. Never, not even in his wildest dreams, would he have thought she blamed them for her shooting, believing them to have pulled the trigger. One thing was obvious; she was confused. He needed to tread carefully, or she would attack and he may have to shoot her in self defence. If she survived that, there would be no way she would believe he hadn't shot her before as well. He needed to keep her calm but he desperately wanted answers.

"You answer my question and I will answer yours. Fair?" she inclined her head, but they didn't lower their guns. He watched her mull over her answer, her eyes once again flickering towards the exit.

"Trent gave me pictures of you and your team, he told me you are terrorists and that it was my job to kill you." _Trent_ _eh?_ So he had been successful in making her believe him to be her brother. Terrorists though?

"I didn't shoot you; none of my team did either. You were shot by Russian hit men hired by a woman named Svetlana Chernitskaya." Her expression remained blank.

"I don't know that name. Who is she?" he smirked at her and waggled his gun at her.

"It's my turn to ask the question." She glared at him but gestured for him to proceed. "Why did you need pictures of us when you know us?"

"I _don't_ know you. Trent said I have amnesia; he gives me a drug to help my brain recover. I think." Think? What does that mean? He felt his heart rate speed up as he found a way to break her trust in the two faced CIA Agent.

"You think?" This time Jenny waggled her gun at him.

"Nuh uh uh, my turn." He rolled his eyes. "Who is this Svetlana?"

"She was your target in 1999 when we were on a mission in Paris. You didn't kill her then, which allowed her to come back last year and hire the hit men needed to kill you and the other member of our team; William Decker. So, you think what?"

"I have flashes of memory, but I only seem to get them when I don't take my medicine. I'm not sure what to make of that." She looked away, momentarily distracted by her thoughts. "Why does Trent want you dead?"

"I don't know, maybe because I was close to you, or because we muscled in on Lodestone. Where does your memory stop and what have you remembered?"

"Technically that's two, so I get two. I don't remember anything. I woke up and didn't even know my name. Trent was there, he said he was my brother and he would help me. As for what I have remembered…" she blushed furiously, some of her memories were about him after all. What if she hadn't actually slept with him? What if it had just been a remembered fantasy? "I remember talking to Trent in a car with you and another man. I remember greeting a woman called Ziva in a large squad room. I remember talking to you in a large house about kids. Talking to Tim about something called Grenouille… and… running with you in a dark city." She wasn't going to tell him about her other memory of him, she didn't think her cheeks would ever lose the blood pooling in them. At least he couldn't see it.

"You remembered us making love, didn't you Jenny?" she opened her mouth to refute it, the words seeming eerily familiar, but realised that she didn't _need_ to answer. He had asked a question out of turn. She knew what she wanted to know now though.

"Do I have a daughter? I don't remember anything about her." his eyes registered his surprise at her question and she felt her heart drop.

"No, you don't." Those words were painful to hear. She hadn't realised how much she had enjoyed the thought of having a daughter until now, when it was being torn away from her.

"But the black haired girl… I was in the alley, I shot the guy attacking her and she called me 'Mommy'. Why would she do that if I'm not her mother?" she asked desperately, hoping he would reconsider his answer, even though she knew he wouldn't, couldn't even.

"Abby calls you that because she considered us to be the parents of her surrogate family. 'Mommy and daddy of NCIS'." Abby, the girl she had saved, had repaid her with emotional torture. She felt tears spring to her eyes and she blinked them back, trying to keep a lid on her distress.

"Do I have _any_ family?" she stressed the word and heard her voice nearly crack, as her misery seemed to take over every fibre of her being. Jethro watched her struggle with kind eyes, but she didn't want his pity. She wanted her daughter, or the feeling of having a daughter, but she didn't want it to be a lie, she wasn't sure she could go through this if all of her hopes were going to be shattered.

"No, just NCIS and the team." She exhaled heavily and shook her head.

"Why? What happened to them? My parents, brothers, sisters, boyfriends?" Jethro realised their question game had been well and truly abandoned. She was distraught and he wasn't sure how much time he had to salvage the conversation before she fired.

"Jen, please calm down. Your mother died when you were quite young and as far as I know you are an only child. Your father died in '92, the official verdict was suicide, but you staunchly believed he was murdered by Rene Benoit, or 'La Grenouille', an international arms dealer." He sensed the chance to have an answer to a question that had been burning in his own mind for a while, and forged ahead, hoping he was being subtle enough so she wouldn't flip and try to kill him. "Benoit was killed in the same way as your father, and your old boyfriend Todd Gelfand was found dead just three weeks ago with the same wound. Your gun was used on Benoit, would you know anything about that?"

"No." she whispered.

"Trent Kort is not even his real name, you know, it's an alias. He is a CIA Agent, who was undercover as one of Benoit's more trusted friends. You are not related at all. He is lying to you."

Jenny wasn't listening; she hadn't been for a while. She had been in a memory, her whispered words in response to what she was seeing, rather than what he had asked her.

_She was walking up the driveway, towards a large house, her house. She unlocked the door when she reached it and then walked into the study, letting her father know she was home from work. She pushed the door open and saw him slouched in the chair, looking for all the world as if he was asleep. She decided not to disturb him and smiled a little at her workaholic father. She nearly pulled the door closed and left, but it was in that instant she saw the blood on the carpet, pooling by the chair where he was sitting. Then everything else came in to focus and she walked further in to the room, almost in a daze. The blood splatters on the window, wall, desk and carpet, the hole in the wall by the drinks cabinet and the pale white of her father's skin. She ran towards the body and reached out to him, only to pull her hand back as the holes in his head came in to view, the blood and brain matter running down his head and neck._

"_No!" she whispered, horror clutching her heart and paralysing her voice, making her unable to say anything else. She shook her head and tears ran down her face unchecked. It wasn't possible, her father wouldn't do that! He wasn't depressed; he had made plans with her for the week while he had leave. It just didn't make sense. She looked around for a gun and saw one in his right hand, hanging limply from his fingers. It was his gun, she was sure of it, but her father would never commit suicide. She was about to turn away, her tears blurring her vision, but she caught sight of a dark bruise on his hand and looked closer. That had not been there when she had left a few hours ago. How could he have done that to himself? She pressed a hand to her mouth and fled the room. Her father had been murdered, she was sure of it, and she would bring the person that did it to justice, no matter what it took. _

_She walked out of the house and found herself on a boat, floating in a marina, the darkness closing in around her. She had come for a reason; tonight she would avenge her father's murder by killing the man who had shot him. She readied her gun and walked in to the light which flooded the deck, keeping her weapon behind her back. Benoit would more than likely know why she was here, so there was no point in discretion, but she had downed a few glasses of the hard stuff before coming, so it seemed like a good idea. It was almost funny, her coming to kill the guy on his boat after he had fled from her study an hour before. No one knew where she was and there was no one to protect him from her. She smiled and looked for him, catching sight of him just across from her, glass of sauvignon in hand, watching her every move like he knew what was coming and was ready for it._

"_I knew you would follow me Jenny, though I had hoped you would not do so armed." He swirled his glass and finished it, placing it on the deck by his foot and then straightening to face her. "You are being misled; I did not kill your father."_

"_Liar." She spat, pulling her gun from behind her back and pointing it at him, her gun arm surprisingly steady. _

"_Non, I am not lying to you. I know you will never believe me, and my life is not really worth saving after all of the lives my trade has taken, so I will not beg for it." She crossed the distance between them slowly, stalking her prey, careful not to lose her footing in her not-exactly-sober state._

"_Do you know what it feels like to come home and find the only family you have _ever_ had dead? To see his blood running down his face? To have to scrub the carpets to get his brain matter out of it? Do you?" she could feel the tears on her cheeks but she ignored them. He wasn't going to get away now, not again. He sighed and shook his head sadly._

"_I am sorry for what you have suffered, but it was not by my hand or order. Your father was a good friend to me; his only failing in our trade was his conscience. You. I never understood why he would give up all of the wealth for family, but I do now. I would give it all up, take back all of the lives for one more day with Jeanne, but I know it cannot be. I have accepted my fate, have you accepted the consequences?" he stared at her, waiting for her judgement. He knew he was going to die tonight, and his regrets caught up with him, manifesting in his expression as sorrow. _

_Jenny walked forward and gripped his hand, making sure she bruised the flesh, just as her father's hand had been marked and watched the pain filter across his face. His body froze and she brought her gun to his head, the moment she had been waiting twelve years for finally here. She looked back over everything she had done to get to this moment, joining NCIS, meeting Jethro, meeting Ziva, manoeuvring her team, suffering set back after set back, putting Tony in Jeanne's life and the missed opportunity in her study an hour ago. Now was the time for retribution against his crimes. She had her gun to his head and he was completely defenceless. And she couldn't do it. She _still_ couldn't kill him. _

_Her tears blurred her vision and she stepped away, her gun arm dropping limply by her side, the safety clicking on. The look on Jethro's face when he had asked her if she would have killed him haunted her already, his opinion of her meaning more to her than Benoit's death. What was she doing? She had deceived her Agents, risked Tony's life and destroyed a young girl's trust in love, a young girl who she had been more than prepared to put in the same position as her, and for what? What was killing him really going to give her, peace of mind? She was already seeing the disapproving glances from the team, the disgust from Jethro and the loss of respect from everyone else. She dropped his hand and he looked at her, slightly confused, but cautiously grateful. She looked at him for a moment then turned around and walked away, pausing long enough to leave the gun on the deck, and then she walked back to her car so she could go home._

Jenny's vision cleared and she found herself sobbing on the ground, Jethro's arms around her, her head on his shoulder, her hands curled in the material of his jacket, his hands stroking her back soothingly. Her gun was no longer in her hand; it must have been taken by Jethro while she had been remembering. He was hushing her softly and, judging by the wetness of his clothes, she had been crying for a while. She hiccupped a little and sniffed, trying to get her bearings. She now knew she hadn't killed Benoit, but who else would have wanted to? No one would believe she didn't do it, even Jethro thought she had, and he was supposed to be the one that knew her best.

"It's ok Jen, I've been there myself, remember? I know how confusing it is." What was he talking about?

"Have you… lost… your memory?" she ground out between sobs, trying to erase the images of her father's dead body, his blood and grey tissue sprayed around the room.

"Yeah, though I only lost fifteen years." She pulled her head back to look at him, surprised, holding her breath in an attempt to stop crying. It didn't work; it just caused an explosion of tears and gasping breaths, making Jethro draw her back into his embrace. She went willingly and squeezed her eyes shut, relief to have someone around who knew what she was going through giving her an intense dose of calm. He spoke to her while she tried to compose herself. "I woke up in hospital, didn't know the people around me. My last memory was of losing my first wife and daughter. They were killed while I was in Desert Storm. Ducky came to see me, you did too; I didn't recognise either of you. It hurt those closest to me, but I couldn't help that. I just wanted my family with me, not these new people. I have no idea what drug Trent is giving you, but I never got anything like that. As far as I know, there is no drug to help with remembering things." He said the last part gently, almost like he expected her to attack him for even thinking Trent wasn't helping her. Well she already knew that. She wanted to know something different though.

"Is Benoit's death still an open case?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled by his shirt. She felt him shake his head.

"No. Kort came to NCIS and produced an order from the CIA that one of their assets was to be legally killed." She nodded, sure that she was jumping to the right conclusion.

"What about Todd?" Jethro's hand stilled on her back for only a second, but she noticed. Jenny opened her eyes and looked around the basement while her movements went unobserved, trying to locate her gun. She had no desire to hurt Jethro, she couldn't even fathom it now, but she did want to hurt someone else, and for that she would need her weapon.

"Yeah, that's still open. Same style as Benoit's death." He was carefully avoiding talking about her father's death, aware of how touchy the subject was, even back when she had her memory. Jenny nodded against his shirt and rubbed her face against his collar tenderly, enjoying the sensation of being in his arms. She was going to have to leave now, and she knew he wouldn't let her go. So she had to distract him. She pulled her head back once more and let her eyes trace his features, her hands letting go of his jacket to creep up his chest, so she could cup his face.

"Jethro, I think…" she couldn't lie to him, she didn't want him to resent her, her feelings for him were too strong to play with, so she decided to distract him with the truth. "I think… I'm in love with you." She gazed into his eyes and then pulled him to her for a kiss. She ignored the voice in her head telling her she could have left without doing this, and that she was just stalling so she could kiss him. She tried to concentrate on the task at hand, but the feel of his lips was very distracting. Was her plan going to back fire? His kiss left her breathless and she finally pulled away, needing air as much as he did. She jumped up out of his arms as soon as she released his lips and pointed his own gun at him, while she backed quickly towards the stairs and then up them. His wounded eyes followed her movements, his anger at being used flashing in his eyes and she knew she couldn't leave like this. When she reached the top, she pulled the door open and then spoke to him. "I have something I _must_ do, please don't hate me." She then ran out of the door, down the hall and out of his house.

She had to find Kort and pay him back for all of the lies. Not only that, but she was going to kill him for the murder of her father, Benoit _and_ her old boyfriend Todd, whom she still didn't remember. She set off quickly for the safe house, not looking behind her, just in case Jethro called her back, because she would go, and then everyone would suffer. Trent wouldn't just accept that she wasn't going to kill them, he would do it himself.

It took a while to reach the safe house, but she made good time since she ran some of the way. The house was dark though, and she cautiously approached, wondering where he would be, since he had been entertaining Gregory and the strange man in the expensive suit when she had left. She pulled out Jethro's gun and walked up to the front door, unlocking it with her key and carefully slipping inside, closing the door behind her. The house was quiet and none of the lights were on at all, not even the kitchen light, which Gregory usually left on for his night time hot chocolate. Jenny slowly approached the living room, where the men had taken their evening and opened the door, checking the room warily for Trent, her mind conjuring the image of him laying in wait for her in every shadow. She stopped to listen and then froze as she heard low, laboured breathing from inside the room. She moved along the wall and searched for the light switch, hoping he would be blinded by the light just as much, if not more so, than her. She flicked the switch and then dived down behind a chair, her gun at the ready, senses straining to hear any change in the room.

"J-Jen… ny… Jen…" Gregory's voice croaked from the other side of the room, choked with pain.

Jenny put her head around the chair and cast a look around the room, before moving towards the sound. She saw nothing until she approached the coffee table by the fire place. There were three glasses of alcohol on it, two were untouched, but the third was almost empty, which was odd. Then she saw him. Her breath caught as she looked upon Gregory lying in a pool of blood, face down on the rug in front of the fire, his face pale and his skin clammy. He was breathing slowly and he seemed lethargic, his eyes open and unfocussed. She bent down and touched his shoulder, fear and sadness gripping her as she watched the last moments of the only friend she had known in this strange new life.

"Greg? What happened?" his eyes focussed on her face and his terror almost made her cry. He knew he was dying, and that there was nothing she could do.

"Trent… Trent lies…Sec-Nav… partner." He reached out his hand and held hers, his grip tightening until it was almost vicelike on her hand. "Tell Du-… tell Ducky…" he closed his eyes and a few tears leaked from under his eyelids, running off of his face on to the rug. "Sorry… s-so sorry…" his grip became impossibly harder until Jenny thought her fingers were going to break, and then suddenly his hand fell from hers, his eyes no longer seeing anything and his last breath rushing out in a long drawn out sigh.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Henry is **not** mine, he is the security guard is from the Season 2 episode 'Call of Silence', with Corporal Ernest Yost, the Medal of Honour recipient. He talks with Gibbs about the Japanese food place in the episode prologue.

A.N.: The little dashes I usually break up my POV's with wouldn't stay when i uploaded this for some reason, so I've had to use the horizontal line instead. Thank you everyone who has reviewed this story, you guys are the best!

Jenny swallowed, suppressing the impulse to cry as she reached out to Gregory's body, and closed his sightless eyes. He had been her only friend, but he had been in on the lies, he had been helping Trent to turn her into a monster, and the only reason he was sorry, was because he had been dying. She let out a steadying breath and then stood slowly. She looked back at the full glasses on the table, and the one she knew must have been Gregory's, the nearly empty one. His death had already been decided, he just hadn't known. Or had he? When she had heard him speaking in the kitchen, his voice had wavered nervously. Had he realised his usefulness was at an end? Why didn't he leave? Jenny shook her head, dismissing the thoughts. His motivations were unimportant, she had to try and complete his last request.

"_Tell Du-… tell Ducky…" _Who was Ducky? The name was familiar, and she could feel something, almost like a memory niggling at the back of her mind. She knew who Ducky was, she must do or Greg wouldn't have told her to speak to him. He hadn't been a target of hers, but he was affiliated with NCIS and Jethro. It can't be that hard, she had remembered about her father and Benoit, she should be able to remember a co-worker. She succeeded only in giving herself a headache and she growled angrily. Well she had to find Ducky first maybe Jethro would know where to find him. She walked to the front door and switched the light back off as she passed it, hoping Trent wouldn't know she had been back. That thought gave her pause, where was Trent? If he had killed Greg did that mean he was after her now too? He knew where to find her didn't he? He had told her to kill Jethro, so he would wait for her there. What if he went in to find her? Or if he just decided to kill Jethro? She calmed herself down, telling herself Jethro could take care of himself. She froze then as she realised she had his gun. The one she had left with him only had two bullets. _Then find Ducky quick! He might be able to help! _Jenny threw open the door and slinked out, walking quickly down the street and towards the navy yard.

* * *

Ziva, Tony and Ducky all stood around in Abby's lab, waiting for the results to come back on the liquid from in the syringe Ziva had found in Jenny's bag. It had taken a while for them to figure out how to work some of the machinery, but Ducky had soon taken charge and gotten everything ready. They watched the monitors as the syringe test flashed through the options. They had begun by trying to see if it was some type of poison, and when all of those came back negative, they had moved on to looking through anaesthetics. Ducky became even more impatient as the substances he had thought made the most sense to be found on an assassins' person, were discounted by the computer.

"We don't have time for this." He muttered and then walked to the syringe, so he could take a sample. He put the sample in one of Abby's more prized machines and spoke to it while he programmed it to give him a chemical analysis. "I know I am not Abby, but I would greatly appreciate a quick response on this one. Our family may be in danger, and this could tell us why."

Rather than making jokes about Ducky moving on from talking to dead bodies, to machines, Tony watched him and willed the equipment to listen to him. They really _did_ need to know. If this was a bad substance, they may need to go back to Gibbs' and make sure he and Abby were alright. He hadn't liked leaving Gibbs alone with an intruder in his house, but he'd had a gun out and he wouldn't have been comfortable while they were still there. Maybe he had made a mistake by giving in without talking to Gibbs about it. He shook his head and tried to stop second guessing himself, again.

"I would like a coffee, would any of you like one?" Ziva asked, the boredom of watching the flashing screen finally driving her out of the lab. Ducky and Tony both said yes and Tony decided to go with her. If Ducky found something, he could call them. "You will call us if you get something, yes?"

"Of course I will, Ziva. You will be the first person I call." He said with a conspiratorial wink. Ziva chuckled as Tony pretended to be wounded by the remark and then walked out, his nose stuck so far in the air he had to hold his hands out in front of him so he didn't walk into anything. Ducky laughed at him and then went back to watching for results. After a few minutes he became too restless to stay in one place and walked out, taking the elevator to autopsy. He had some paperwork down there that he may as well bring up to lab to complete. The doors opened and he walked swiftly to his desk, unlocking it quickly and pulling out his work, and then locking it again. He sighed and rubbed his face as he recalled he had to cancel the order to exhume Jennifer's body. She was alive; they had physical evidence of that fact, so they didn't need to have her grave opened. He picked up his phone and dialled his friend, the one that had said he would do it for him, to avoid a media circus.

"Hello? Brendon, it's Ducky."

"_Hi Duck, you need another favour?"_

"Ah no, no I don't. In fact I called to ask you to forget my request. We don't need the grave opening anymore."

"_Really? No problem, we haven't started yet anyway. You find what you needed?"_

"Yes, you could say that. Thank you Brendon, for your discretion."

"_No problem, Duck, anything for a friend. Bye."_

"Goodbye." Ducky hung up and put his phone back in its cradle and picking up the bundle of files. He had to get back to the lab, if someone else got there and decided to tidy up he would never forgive himself. The doors opened behind him and he sighed, thinking Tony and Ziva must have come looking for him. "I only popped down to gather some work to do while I wait, there was no need to come looking for me."

"Actually there was." Ducky turned around and stared as Jenny cautiously walked through the doors, her eyes meeting his in something close to recognition. "I'm looking for Ducky. That's you isn't it?" he nodded dumbly and then remembered his manners.

"Yes, my dear. I am Dr Donald Mallard, Ducky is my nickname."

* * *

Jethro looked out of his window briefly at the car opposite his house. It had pulled up only moments after Jenny had run from him and it hadn't moved since. No one had exited the vehicle and Gibbs hadn't gone out to confront the person in there. He had Abby upstairs; he wasn't going to risk her life because a weird person had some sort of obsession with his house. He sighed and carefully made his way upstairs in the dark. He had turned his lights out and actually locked his door, so there was at least a little bit more protection for Abby if this person decided to enter. He was trying to put himself at ease by pretending the person outside was just a stalker or a homeless person who had found a place where no one else parks. He entered his bedroom and took out the gun he had taken from Jenny. She only had two bullets left in this gun and it just put him more ill at ease, but he had been a sniper. He would make sure both count.

Abby opened her eyes and then sat up ramrod straight in the bed, her eyes going wild and a small scream bubbling up in her throat. Where was she? Had no one come to rescue her? Had some other man found her and brought her home to… she felt tears spill down her cheeks as she curled her legs up to her chest protectively. She just wanted to go home!

"Abs? You're ok. Ziva, Tony and Ducky found you, they brought you here. " A figure that she knew so well moved from the door and then hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed. Abby released a sob and a sigh in relief.

"Gibbs?" she reached out a hand to him and he took it, letting her pull him into a hug. She was safe with Gibbs. No one could touch her here. She released all of the pent up terror in her tears, thoroughly wetting Gibbs' freshly changed shirt. He rubbed her back softly, unsure of how she would react to him, since she had just been attacked by a man.

"Are… you ok, Abs?" she sniffed and nodded against his chest. "I mean with me. Here. After…" she slapped his chest slightly.

"It's completely different Gibbs. I know you would never hurt me." Gibbs relaxed and pulled her in for a bigger hug.

"I should have taken you home with McGee."

"I wouldn't have gone with you. You know that." She smiled up at her father figure, enjoying the safety of his embrace. A thought came to her and she jolted up. "Mommy! I saw her Gibbs! She saved me, she wasn't going to hurt me, she was looking out for me!" Gibbs smiled and nodded.

"I know Abs."

"She wasn't going to hurt me Gibbs! She… you know?" he grinned at her and she smiled back, feeling slightly silly for rushing on without really listening. Of course Gibbs knew, he was Gibbs.

"She came here to see me. I got the truth from her, or at least some of it." Abby sighed, glad that they weren't after 'Mommy' anymore, and then burrowed back into Gibbs' chest. Daddy would make it all better. Gibbs pulled away slightly when he felt his phone vibrating and he looked at it curiously. Henry? Why would he be calling him?

"Gibbs."

"_Gibbs, its Henry. You will never believe who I just saw walk into NCIS." _

* * *

Jenny arrived at the navy yard and was amazed at how easy it was to slip past the gate guards. She just moved with purpose and no one stopped her. She didn't realise that the reason no one stopped her was because they weren't sure they had really seen her. She was dead, had been for nearly a month. They just stared at her as she passed, believing they were seeing things. One of the security guards, Henry, had the presence of mind to realise he had really seen her, and he picked up his cell phone, dialling Gibbs. She got all the way in to the building and then slipped into the stairwell, narrowly avoiding being seen by Ziva and Tony as they exited the elevator. She couldn't believe her good fortune as she found the stairwell was empty, and none of the doors were locked. She moved as if on autopilot after that. She pulled out her gun and moved downwards, going to the bottom floor, somehow knowing she would find Ducky there. The autopsy floor was obviously marked, and she moved out of the stairwell slowly, looking through the doors and seeing an elderly man standing by a desk, talking on a phone. She put her gun away, knowing he wouldn't hurt her and then cautiously moved closer to the doors. He put his phone down and she moved closer to the doors, triggering the opening sensor. He sighed and spoke to her, believing her to be someone else.

"I only popped down to gather some work to do while I wait, there was no need to come looking for me." She watched him, hoping something he did would trigger a memory, but nothing happened. Frustrated, she replied a little forcefully, causing him to turn around with a look of concern on his face.

"Actually there was." She moved further in the room and looked at him square in the eye. "I'm looking for Ducky. That's you isn't it?"

"Yes, my dear. I am Dr Donald Mallard, Ducky is my nickname." She nodded and walked further towards him.

"I'm supposed to tell you something, but I'm not exactly sure how you will take it." he raised his eyebrows and then shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"Try me." She smirked at his confidence and open mindedness. He hadn't pointed a weapon at her or called security, so she decided to trust him.

"Alright. I have just come from my safe house, which I shared with Greg and Trent." He stopped her.

"Who?" She squinted and bit her lip as she thought of how to describe them, now that she knew they were not who they had pretended to be.

"My… well, Greg was my friend, and I used to believe Trent was my brother, but now I know he lied to me. Anyway, Greg is dead; Trent or his partner killed him. He told me to tell you specifically that Trent lies and Sec-Nav is his partner." Ducky's eyes widened and his stomach plummeted. He now knew the real reason Sec-Nav had taken the case off of Gibbs' team, and it wasn't a reason that would have entered his wildest nightmares.

"I think you had better tell me everything, Jennifer." He moved around her and towards one of the autopsy tables, heading towards the desk that Palmer usually worked at, so he could wheel the chair over to his desk and they could sit down and talk. Jenny watched him go and then sucked in a breath as it hit her, the memory that had been lurking in the back of her mind.

"_Duck, this is my new probie, Agent Jennifer Shepard." A middle aged man turned away from a body as they approached, his gloves still clean as he hadn't yet cut into the cadaver. He smiled at Gibbs and then at the new arrival, her. He reached out a hand to her and she took it, glad he hadn't started yet, while trying to keep her eyes off of the corpse. Her stomach was bubbling; she just didn't do well with death ever since seeing her father's body. Somehow all of the corpses began to look like him._

"_Hello my dear, I am Dr Donald Mallard; my friends however call me 'Ducky'." She raised her eyebrows and grinned at him._

"_Ducky?" she asked, and he chuckled at her expression._

"_A name I was given during my youth. I didn't like it then, but now I find I am rather fond of it, and since I have a feeling you and I will be better acquainted, I would be glad to have you use it." she felt very flattered that he thought they would be friends after knowing her for only a few seconds, and she gave him the first genuine smile of the day. Her first day hadn't turned out as bad as she and the Director had thought. Then Jethro pushed her over to the body…_

Another memory came to her, one from her first few years at NCIS, then another from the last as Director. She gripped her head as more memories poured in, like a floodgate had been opened and she couldn't stem the flow. She fell to her knees and curled up as whatever was left of the drug Greg had given her tried to fight the images that burned in her mind, causing an acute headache to form. The suppressant hadn't been renewed however, so the memories were allowed to pour through. She remembered her mother's face as she reached out to her from her hospital bed, her arms bony and her strength waning. That was the last time she had seen her mother, she had died soon after and her father had sent Jenny home with the house keeper so he could grieve alone. She remembered her father drinking himself into oblivion until she had gained the courage to film him doing it and make him watch the film. She had helped him to pour it all down the sink after that and he had gotten better. He had become her hero and they had spent every free minute together. She remembered playing pranks on Chris Pacci and Stan Burley, then being slapped on the back of the head by Jethro for distracting her team mates during stake outs. She remembered Paris, Positano, Marseilles and the Czech Republic. She recalled leaving Jethro a letter in her coat pocket, and all the following years of despair because of it. She remembered _everything_.

* * *

Ducky turned with the chair in time to see the memory wash over her. He watched her cautiously, recognising the look of intense concentration on her face as the one Gibbs had back when he'd had a memory. He approached her warily as her eyes roved wildly around the room, not really seeing anything from the here and now. A memory? He groaned a little as he realised she must have amnesia or something like it. Only a memory from such an accident could remove a person from current events while they watched it. He moved closer as she sunk to the ground, her hands clutching her head as she moaned in pain. He settled next to her on the ground and pressed his fingers to her neck. Her heart was racing, but she didn't notice his presence. He was sure that remembering wasn't supposed to be painful, but she was obviously suffering and there was nothing he could do. She finally came out of it and she took a big shuddering breath.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

"Yes Ducky, I'm alright." She sat back at looked him in the eye, the old familiar flame back in her emerald spheres. "I'm just _really_ pissed."


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

"Who just walked in to NCIS?" Gibbs asked Henry, the security guard. His voice had been a little dazed, but it was getting stronger now as he recognised the importance of what he had seen.

"_Ex-Director Jenny Shepard. She just walked right through the front door looking like a woman on a mission. Do you want me to inform the Sec-Nav? He should probably know she is alive, since Vance is unavailable now_." Gibbs listened to what Henry was telling him, glad that at least someone over there had realised they weren't hallucinating and had called him. This was a serious situation, Jenny could have easily fooled him into believing she was innocent and then gone to pick off his team while he wasn't around. He didn't think she would, his gut said she wouldn't, but as a leader he had to protect his team by preparing for the worst.

"No, don't inform the Sec-Nav, Henry. I'll call DiNozzo and have him find her; we can deal with this in house." Henry agreed and Gibbs hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket and turning to look in Abby's curious eyes.

"What did he say?" she asked worriedly, his comment of handling it 'in house' telling her it was about Jenny. He sighed and pulled her into another hug while he decided what to tell her. Jenny could be going in to NCIS to kill someone, so that put everyone at risk. He should have told Henry to gather security and find her, subdue her and put her in a cell until he got there, but he trained Jenny, even if she couldn't remember. She only missed if she wanted to, which was what had made her such a good field agent. When the two of them had been together, there hadn't been a criminal that could escape them.

Sometimes he was annoyed with his current teams' lack of skill, but then they would do something that would completely erase those thoughts. Ziva had taken down the Iranian Intelligence operative that was framing her and tricked her into confessing, something that she would never have done before joining his team. Tony acted up all of the time, often appearing to be clowning around and avoiding working, only to pull out a complete search with results, much to his colleagues' disbelief. Tim would spout ridiculous computer spiel, when he could form a sentence, which all sounded superfluous to the case, and would then pull a rabbit out of his hat; like he had with Ari's picture match, which he had found in a few hours, while Gibbs had been looking for it for weeks. All together his team was incredible, but his mind still reminded him that it took four of them to be as effective as he and Jenny had been. He needed to get to NCIS and confront her himself, but there was the small matter of Abby and the person or person's parked outside of his house.

"Jenny just walked into NCIS. I've told security to stand down and I'm going to call Tony. It'll be fine Abs, Jenny won't be hurt." Abby's eyes widened and she gripped his arm, making him meet her eyes. She shook her head at him, annoyed he could be so cavalier with Jenny's safety.

"You don't know that Gibbs!" she whined, and Jethro smiled at her in that 'I'm Gibbs, I know everything' way that made her feel slightly foolish.

"I do know, Abs. They won't shoot unless she pulls a weapon on them. I also know Jenny. She won't try to run unless she knows she can get away. If she does, it just means Tony and Ziva gave her an opening." Abby folded her arms and gave him her seldom used puppy glare; the one that was threatening, but just too cute to refuse. Gibbs felt his resolve crumble and fought the urge to roll his eyes, she'd be very unhappy if he did that and he would be spending his money on 'please forgive me' Caf-Pow's for the next few weeks.

"We need to go to NCIS, Gibbs! Jenny wouldn't hurt me; we can prove she's on our side!" he sighed in defeat and dismissed the idea to call Ducky over to watch her; he would have to bring her with him.

"We will, Abs. I just need to sort something out first. Stay here." Jethro gave her a final squeeze and then stood up, walking out of the bedroom door and down the stairs before she could protest. He needed to get himself and Abby out to his car so they could get to NCIS, but his gut told him that was an incredibly stupid idea while there was that car parked out front, so he needed a distraction. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket and dialled a familiar number.

* * *

Jenny rolled her neck experimentally and stood up, accepting the hand that Ducky held out to her. She smiled at him. _Ever the gentleman, Ducky_. People could really learn a lot from the elderly M.E.; his manners put most men to shame. She rubbed a hand across her brow, the remnants of the headache irritating her, but not as much as the knowledge of how clueless she had been these past few weeks. She couldn't believe she had listened to Kort's ridiculous lies and thought they were the truth! She was acutely embarrassed and deeply furious, especially when she recalled what she had done. She had attacked her people, tried to kill Timothy and Ziva and nearly succumbed to the urge to put Abby out of her misery. _Oh, poor Abby_, she had almost witnessed the young girl's rape. She was incredibly thankful she'd still had the integrity to save her, though the words Abby had spoken to her still caused her heart to constrict in pain. 'Mommy', a name she was nearly too old to hear from her own flesh and blood. She had never required a family until Abby had said that to her, it had awakened something in her that craved the unconditional love that her own child would give her. It was unlikely she would get one though, even if she found a man willing to have her, which Jethro wouldn't, he had turned her down already after all. The placement of her bullet wounds could cause serious problems for carrying a child. What if she had a hole through her womb? Would that really matter though? It wasn't as if she would live long enough to have one with this disease killing her. She had to protect Jethro; she had failed in the desert because she had been incapacitated too quickly. This was her second chance to end things her way.

Jenny shook her head, trying to banish the thoughts of family and death that tormented her and brushed imaginary dirt off of her clothes, while she ordered her thoughts, sorting her new memories from the old. Her hands stilled on her hips and her mouth dropped open a little in shock. _Oh god, I kissed Jethro_. Her cheeks flushed and she heard Ducky chuckle next to her. She turned to him mutely, wondering what could possibly be funny in the world after remembering his betrayed face when she had run from his house, his own gun pointed at him.

"Don't worry about him my dear; Jethro is wise enough to recognise genuine feelings, particularly from you. I'm sure your eye still twitches when you lie, such a thing cannot be erased by the loss of memories." Jenny raised her eyebrows at him, surprised.

"How do you know I'm thinking of Jethro?" she asked softly, and Ducky waggled a finger at her fondly.

"You wore the same expression a great many times in your first few years on Jethro's team, and many more during our time in Europe. However…" His own expression became pensive for a moment, "the look you wore throughout your Directorship was much more regretful." Jenny gave him a sad half smile and then decided enough chit-chat had passed between them. They needed to get down to business, Jethro was still in danger. The Sec-Nav was in on the plot to have her kill Jethro and his team, and her memories had made everything else she had overheard make sense. Leon, the one that Sec-Nav had referred to, was obviously Vance; he had been framed by the Sec-Nav who had been backed by all of the unknowing employees of NCIS, who had just seen him as an intruder into their family unit. He was the ideal scapegoat, but he didn't deserve this. They would have to hope they could find enough evidence to link him with the plot, or Leon would get the blame regardless.

"When I woke up, I couldn't remember anything, not my own name, the faces of my parents, nothing. Kort was there, he told me he was my brother and began to sow the seeds of hate for my targets. He said I was an assassin and that my targets were my friends, but they betrayed me and tried to shoot me to death. I believed him." she whispered the last part, ashamed of herself for even thinking that they would willingly shoot her.

"Who were your targets?" Ducky asked, already knowing part of the answer, her attempts on Ziva and McGee being common knowledge in the group since the gathering in Abby's lab, when a few truths had come out, like Jenny's death being falsified and her drugging, that she still probably don't know about.

"Abby, Ziva, Timothy, Tony and Jethro. Especially Jethro. He told me that even if I failed to kill the others I _had_ to kill Gibbs. I think he will be waiting for me to go to Jethro's house, so he can clean up all of his remaining loose ends in one place." Ducky nodded, it made perfect sense.

"What about the Sec-Nav and Vance?" Jenny frowned as she thought of how Leon must be feeling, hidden away somewhere, his life in the Sec-Nav's hands.

"Leon was framed. Sec-Nav heard how you all thought Leon had done away with me and decided to run with it. He's keeping him in a secure facility until something happens on Kort's end, I don't know where." Ducky's eyes widened in horror, Leon was innocent? He had helped to condemn him, and he wasn't even guilty…

"My God, we were so sure… Leon and Todd were the only two who had the opportunity…" he trailed off, closing his eyes in mortification. Jenny's head snapped to him and she just knew he was referring to something that involved her.

"Opportunity for what?" Ducky opened his eyes and stepped closer to her, hesitantly taking one of her hands between his and grasping it tightly, dragging out the moment so he could figure out how to tell her.

"You aren't ill, Jennifer." Her eyes narrowed at him and she opened her mouth to interject, but he patted her hand lightly, silently asking her to let him finish. "Jethro asked me what you were dying from, so Abby and I took a look at the test I ran for you and she saw something I didn't. Your symptoms were artificially induced by drugs. We investigated further and found that you were being continually dosed through your Bourbon." Jenny stared at him, his words not really sinking in. This was all some sort of dream wasn't it? Or maybe she had died and this was her Hell; where someone she trusted had been slipping her drugs to make her think she was dying, where she betrayed the ones she loved, tried to kill them and then found that everything she thought was true was really a lie. She had thrown her life away because she had believed she was dying, she had given up on so many things… "I should have seen it the first time around, then this may have never happened. I'm sorry Jennifer." His softly spoken words drew her from her self pity and she took another look at the M.E. He was tired, drained and his face spoke of a weariness brought only by deep guilt. She didn't want him to feel that way, it wasn't his fault, it was hers. She should have told Gibbs she was ill, then maybe he would have asked the right questions to bring all of this to light a month or two ago, but she hadn't. There was no use crying over spilt milk. She turned his hand over and grasped it with both of hers.

"We would never have known that the Sec-Nav and Kort were working together, if you had. This way is for the best Ducky, even if it doesn't feel like it yet." He smiled at her and nodded, releasing her hands and then clearing his throat. It was time to get to work.

* * *

Tony pulled out the cash for the three coffee cups in the cardboard holder that Ziva had picked up, and then casually strolled after her, catching up to her as she walked out of the front door. She smiled at him as he reached out for his cup and she playfully pulled it out of his grasp, laughing as he followed it, practically tripping her up as he did so, walking straight in front of her and then crowding her, fishing for a kiss. She avoided his lips and his hands that were questing for the coffee. This intimacy was a new development, one that she liked, but wasn't too comfortable displaying in public. She liked to keep it private, just between the two of them, with no witnesses. The privacy was something she needed to have, so she could get used to the changes in their everyday life with no added pressure, or people watching them to see if their love would fail.

"Aww come on, Ziva. I need some caffeine!" he whined, trying to make another playful grab for his coffee. She sidestepped him again and laughed at the look on his face.

"You mean some sugar! No Tony, you can wait until we are back at NCIS. Then we can drink it with Ducky."

"Ducky said he didn't want one."

"Well, he has got one now, hasn't he?" Tony was about to reply, but his phone began to vibrate in his pocket at just that moment. Ziva looked pointedly at his pocket and he groaned, rolling his eyes as he picked up the call. Ziva had avoided showing any form of affection to him around others and while he liked what they had, he wanted them to have a completely honest relationship. They were building up towards a good long talk and quite possibly, an argument. Why didn't she want to be seen in public with him? he ignored his irritation and put his phone to his ear.

"Ducky did you get the test results?"

"_It's Gibbs, DiNozzo, don't you look at your caller ID?_" Tony jumped and pulled his phone back from his head, glancing at his phone as if to confirm what Gibbs had just said. He put it back to his ear, feeling silly.

"Boss? What's up? You need backup?"

"_No. Jenny just walked into NCIS. Find her and keep an eye on her. Subdue her if she's attacks anyone, Abby and I will join you as soon as we can._" Tony opened his mouth to ask more questions, but the dial tone shut it again. He shook his head at his phone and put it back in his pocket.

"Gibbs?" she asked, one of her eyebrows raised at him curiously.

"Yeah. We need to get back to NCIS."


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you Mrs Elizabeth Gibbs, Multicolered Paperclips, sn855850 and HesMines for reviewing! Your words make me smile!

The parked car across the street from Gibbs' house was quiet; the person within staying very still, so he didn't give himself away by rocking the car. He was very experienced in stakeouts like these, so he knew what the acceptable methods of passing the time, without distracting himself from his task, were. In this case, he decided to mentally review everything he knew about Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Trent Kort watched the semi darkened house knowing his quarry was home, so there was no point checking. According to his Intel, Gibbs hardly ever used his full house, instead using the basement as his bedroom and workroom. Even though most of the lights had been turned off in the rest of the building shortly after he had parked up, he wasn't worried. Gibbs wasn't going anywhere, which gave him plenty of time to watch out for Jennifer, who had yet to appear, and that concerned him. If she had already been found and taken out by Gibbs' team, the Sec-Nav would have told him, but there had been no word yet. Most of Gibbs' team had gone back to NCIS already, his associate had been able to tell him that much, so she must be on her way here. Unless she stopped off at the safe house. If she had done that, then there was a great possibility she had seen Gregory, and that meant she would now be a liability and he would need to track her down himself. There was no room for maybes in this business. It was probable she wouldn't come here if she had seen Gregory though. So he would wait an hour. If she came, he would follow her in and make sure both she and Gibbs died. If she didn't, he would call his partner and have him use his greater influence to find her.

After a few minutes, one of the curtains on the ground floor twitched. He watched the window for any other signs of life but there were none. That meant Gibbs had more than likely seen him and was being careful not to disturb the curtain and alert him. He grinned, Gibbs was sneaky, but he was better. Being seen wouldn't stop him from completing his mission. He was a professional, and he always finished his assignment. He was now positive Jennifer had been to the safe house. It wouldn't take this long to get to Gibbs' house if she had been on her way to take him down. He would have to kill him himself. He checked his gun, sliding a full clip in and unfastened his seat belt, readying himself to sneak into the house, when suddenly someone knocked loudly on his window. He looked out, expecting to see a gun pointed at him, and saw instead a pizza delivery boy standing there, pizza box in hand, squinting to see inside the car's darkened interior. Kort hid his gun and wound down his window slightly, enough to talk, but not enough for the boy to see in the car.

"Can I help you?" he asked the boy, his English accent more pronounced in the hopes the kid would think he was a tourist, and decide to leave him alone.

"Yeah. The pizza is sixteen dollars and a four dollar delivery charge, so all in all that's twenty dollars." He held his hand out for the money and Kort shook his head at him, annoyed that the kid thought he could sell someone's unwanted pizza to him.

"I didn't order a pizza. Now run along. Some of us have real jobs to complete." The kid spluttered indignantly at his remark and gave his car a swift kick on the driver side door. Kort ignored him, he would go away soon, but his presence at the car would draw unwanted attention to him. Just then a car ignition started and Kort swung his head around to look at Gibbs' house. It was now completely dark and the car outside it turned its headlights on. Kort stared as the inside light switched on and the interior was lit up, showing Gibbs and his young Forensic scientist in the car. Gibbs smirked at him and the Goth waved. Kort lunged for his weapon but the car sped away, leaving him pointing his gun at thin air and cursing loudly. He started his own car and glared angrily at the delivery boy. He couldn't believe he had fallen for such a simple distraction, and the worst thing was he couldn't shoot the boy, because he wasn't in on Gibbs' plan. He did a U-turn in the street and sped off after the other car, hoping to catch up to him.

Gibbs was a damn fast driver. Kort slammed on the accelerator once he caught sight of him in the distance and attempted to shorten the distance between them. There were many angry drivers left in his wake, but he really didn't care. Once he was close enough to see the number plate, he wound down his window and pointed his gun out of it. He didn't have unlimited ammo, so he tried to line up the shot at the car's tyres before firing. Gibbs swerved and the bullet caught the bumper instead. Kort cursed and steadied his car, then lined up another shot, this time for the rear window and hopefully the windscreen. He pulled the trigger and Gibbs swerved again, this time around a sharp corner. The bullet still impacted the rear window and smashed it, the shards falling all over the road, but the windscreen had been saved. The bullet had exited the vehicle from the driver side, backseat passenger window. Kort was going too fast to take the same corner as Gibbs, so he slowed and took the next turn, but it was too late, Gibbs had disappeared. Trent sighed in frustration. He would be going to the navy yard and he wasn't going to follow him there. He would more than likely be shot on sight by Gibbs' team and possibly the Sec-Nav. He was, after all, the only person left besides Jennifer who could tie him to this mission. Kort wasn't stupid, if he wanted to stay alive now, he had to kill Gibbs and disappear.

* * *

Tony and Ziva rushed through the doors to NCIS, looking around for anyone who could tell them where Jenny had gone. Henry, the security guard called them over and explained the situation, and his phone conversation with Gibbs, to them. Tony sighed and Ziva passed the tray of coffee to Henry. No one had seen where she had gone after she had slipped into the stairwell.

"I have an idea of where she might be, come with me Tony." Ziva started walking towards the stairwell and then stopped when she realised Tony wasn't following. She turned around and saw him drinking as much of his coffee as he could. "Tony!"

"Mmmm!" he said, motioning with his hand that she should stop shouting at him. He swallowed and then tried again. "I'm just so sick of abandoning my fresh coffee at the drop of a hat, so I'm having as much of this one as I can." She rolled her eyes at him and then rushed back over to drink some of hers. He was right though wasn't he? The only person who usually gets to take his coffee with him was Gibbs, and even then it sometimes got spilt.

"When you're ready, guys." Henry said, still holding the tray and watching in amusement as the two Agents savoured their beverages. Ziva put hers back in the holder first, looking and feeling more alert. They had all been up for two days, having processed McGee's crime scene throughout last night and then had their 'Vance has been arrested' celebration tonight. The coffee was a very welcome kick start to their systems. She pulled Tony's cup from his hands and then put it back in the holder, before taking her lover's hand and dragging him to the stairwell and cautiously opening the door.

"Ok, Ok. You're right. We need to find Jenny. I'm just so worn-out." Tony complained quietly, not really wanting Ziva to tell him off again, but still wanting to make his feelings known. Besides, it was Jenny. His mind just couldn't accept the thought that she was trying to kill someone in NCIS, despite the attempt on McGee and Ziva. She wouldn't really do that, would she? Maybe she had been trying to help them, alert them to a real threat. It was possible wasn't it? She hadn't shot McGee when he had climbed the fire escape to confront her and she could have killed him so easily then. He checked his gun and readied it regardless. He wasn't going into a potentially hostile situation without his gun ready. Ziva did the same beside him. "So, where do you think she'll be?"

"Abby's lab. It is where we left Ducky, and she may be trying to finish off Abby." Tony looked up from his gun and stared at her quizzically.

"Finish her off?" he asked quietly, watching as Ziva sighed and turned to look in his eyes.

"I found her bag next to where Abby was attacked. That shows she was present when Abby was being attacked." She admitted and Tony nodded and gave her a half smile.

"So Jenny killed that sex beast and saved Abby. It wouldn't have taken two seconds to fire another round, and she would _still_ have gotten away." Ziva agreed, but part of her wanted to err on the side of caution.

"Maybe. We will know soon enough." She started down the stairs to the next floor, where Abby's lab was located, Tony bringing up the rear and watched their six, while she walked up to the door. She turned the handle and nodded to him, throwing the door open and allowing him to pass her, straight out into the corridor. Ziva looked around the stairwell cautiously before following him out. He crept up to the lab door and she followed him, checking the corridor for any threats, in front of them and behind. She and Jenny used to specialise in lulling their enemies into a false sense of security and then jumping out behind them. She wasn't going to be caught out by the same trick. Tony gestured to the doorway and she nodded, she would go in first and then he would cover her. She rolled past the doorway and stood next to the opening, waiting for the telltale sounds of a gun cocking or footsteps. Even if Ducky was the only one inside, they should have heard something. Ziva looked worriedly at Tony and then ducked through the doorway, pointing her gun into the room, Tony spinning round the doorframe next. The room was completely empty.

"She's not here. Ducky's not here, either." Tony said quietly, worried now for Ducky's safety. Why would Ducky be away from the lab? He was supposed to be waiting for the chemical analysis of that liquid from in the syringe Ziva had found in Jenny's bag. Tony walked over to the machine Ducky had been using and saw a printout hanging out of it. "The analysis has finished."

"What does it say?" Ziva asked, after checking Abby's office. Tony stared at the paper and turned it upside down.

"I have no idea. It's in 'Geek Speak'." He handed the paper to her and she put her gun away, and then looked at it confused. She couldn't make heads or tails of it either.

"Perhaps he went down to autopsy." She said squinting at the paper in the hopes it would make more sense. Tony clicked his fingers and grinned at her.

"Well there actually is a way for us to check that, isn't there?" he said smugly, pointing at the little video phone device on Abby's computer desk that connected to autopsy. Ziva nodded and walked over to it, switching it on. It blinked on and they could see two figures in the distance. She quickly turned it off again, hoping that Jenny wouldn't have noticed it turn on. Ziva turned grimly to Tony and pulled her weapon back out.

"Jenny has Ducky down in autopsy."

* * *

Jenny watched as Ducky pulled out the analysis of her bourbon and then looked at it. He walked quickly over to her and pointed out the bits that he had highlighted. All of those parts showed that there were drugs in the liquid, and quite a large amount. She sighed and cursed her drinking habits. If only she had drunk more coffee instead. She had turned to the bourbon when she had felt Jethro becoming more distant with her; it had been the only thing that could remind her of the good times with him. Then everything had taken a turn for the worst in her life and she had needed more, those precious memories of their time together the only joy in her existence. She couldn't believe that her connection to Jethro had been poisoned, and they still didn't know who by, though the evidence was pointing towards the Sec-Nav. Maybe Cynthia would remember something.

Just then Jenny realised she had the distinct feeling she was being watched. She swiftly pulled Ducky down behind one of the autopsy tables and swivelled on the spot as she crouched with him, pulling her gun out simultaneously and pointing it at the doors to autopsy as they opened. She found herself looking at two gun barrels, both Tony and Ziva taking cover behind the doors, their weapons trained on her.

"Drop the weapon and release Ducky!" Tony shouted to her and she had to smile. They thought she was still under Kort's influence, they were just being cautious.

"Put your weapons down! Then we'll come out." she shouted out, her voice echoed around autopsy but the only sound in response was Tony scoffing at the thought of giving up his gun. Ducky shook his head and groaned, annoyed that he hadn't thought to tell them where he was and that Jennifer wasn't a threat to them. Unfortunately they mistook the groan for one of pain. Ziva rolled across the floor and tried to flank Jenny, while Tony tried to distract her.

"Just send Ducky over to us so we can get him some medical attention and we won't hurt you." Tony shouted and Jenny sighed, rolling her eyes and Ducky decided he had heard enough.

"Enough Anthony! I'm fine, you just scared us. Jennifer is not here to hurt me or you. Now put your weapons down, all of you!" no one wanted to be the first one to lower their weapon, so they continued to aim at each other. "I said now!" Ducky shouted angrily, and as one all three put their guns on the ground. Ducky then walked over and picked them all up. "Guns have no place in my autopsy room." he placed them all on his desk and kept himself between them and the three people that stood staring at each other. "Is that the chemical analysis?" he snatched the paper from Ziva's hand when she made no move to give it to him and then looked it over. "Ah, yes. Of course! Jennifer, please come here, I want to show you all something." Jenny walked confidently between the two suspicious agents and stood next to Ducky. He then rolled up her sleeve to reveal a few needle marks.

"What is in the syringe then, Ducky? Why is she not a threat when she clearly attempted to kill McGee?" Ziva asked, watching the tightly reigned in emotions play across Jenny's face at her words.

"This chemical analysis is from the substance found in a syringe in your bag. Were you injecting yourself with this substance?" Ducky asked Jenny gently and she shrugged her shoulders.

"No, Gregory administered it to me. Kort didn't trust me enough to do it by myself. He said it would help me fight off an infection that my wounds had given me." Both Tony and Ziva's attention snapped to her when she said Kort and they both opened their mouths to ask questions, but Ducky waved them off, instead focussing on telling Jenny about the drug.

"It's a memory suppressant. It's not strong enough to suppress all of your memories though. Were you hit on the head at any point?" he enquired, keeping an eye on the two confused agents.

"I had a large bruise on my head about here for a while; they said I hit it when I was shot." She touched her head and Ducky looked at the spot, calculating in his head what part of the brain that would have injured. _Ah yes, the memory centre, perfect_. He then turned to the baffled agents standing before him.

"Jennifer was given amnesia and then this substance to suppress the subsequent memories that tried to present themselves. Kort spoke to her when she awoke and told her a lot of lies, but with no memories to prove his words false, she believed him." Ziva narrowed her eyes and glanced between him and Jenny.

"So why shoot at us? And why is she not a threat now?" Ziva asked, watching Jenny take a deep breath to reply herself.

"Kort said you were terrorists and I was your executioner. I stopped taking the drug and started to remember things. I remember everything now. I'm not going to hurt you now anymore than I would have before LA." She said gently and Ziva nodded, a hesitant smile gracing her lips.

"Not very comforting for me, Jenny." Tony said dryly.

"I guess I deserve that one, Tony." Jenny smiled at him and he shrugged.

"Water under the bridge, huh? What about Gibbs?" Jenny smirked and then elegantly raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sure he's already on his way here."


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, black widow mistress, HesMines and justconfused1234 for reviewing!

Trent Kort swore and hung up his phone. There were no available seats on any plane for at least three days. He would have to rent a boat or risk driving across the border to Canada if he wanted to disappear. He paced the short length of his living room in the secret safe house he had set aside for himself, just in case something like this happened. He hadn't trusted any of his associates in any of his deep cover operations, and he was still alive because of it. Now he needed to use the place, he realised just how much danger he was in. The mission had gone pear shaped, Shepard had failed to kill anyone and was now either rogue or back in NCIS, trying to convince them she was the victim of his evil and twisted plans.

He hadn't really thought about failing and being caught when he had volunteered for this job, but it was fast becoming a reality. There was nowhere to hide in DC; the Secretary of the Navy had the power and connections to have him found by either NCIS or the CIA, which would be only too happy to cut him off in order to keep their involvement secret. He should know, as he'd been the executioner for several such expended assets; Jasper Shepard and Rene Benoit to name the most prominent.

He sighed; it had seemed like the perfect assignment, the ideal revenge for all of the trouble Jennifer Shepard had caused in her relentless pursuit of Benoit. For nearly two years he had stayed undercover with Benoit, he had gained his confidence, studied the ins and outs of the arms market and was in waiting to take over for the old man once he was ordered to take him out, but then Shepard had begun to squeeze their operations. She had intercepted their shipments, arrested their buyers, seized their weapons and put quite a few regulars out of business. And if that wasn't enough, she had hit Benoit where it hurt; his daughter. Trent had been forced to waylay her attempts at taking down Benoit's arms empire until his superiors could come up with a solution, and that was when the Sec-Nav had become involved.

The Sec-Nav had felt threatened by how much loyalty Shepard had inspired in her subordinates and had decided to have something done about it. He didn't want to be ignored or disobeyed when his orders clashed with hers, so the only option was to depose her. The investigation into Benoit's murder had been a blatant attempt to pin the murder on her, but they had failed. She had left her gun at the marina and Kort had happily used it instead of his and then buried it in Shepard's backyard, but it wasn't there when they had searched her home and grounds. Instead of letting the investigation drag on with no results, they had agreed that they would be making a fool of themselves, so the CIA had stepped up with the kill order and they had hatched the plan he was currently cursing himself for accepting.

All he'd had to do was recruit someone to drug Director Shepard until she fell under their power and then he would gain her trust, train her and then use her to take out her own growing power base in NCIS. He had easily found someone willing to drug her; an ex-boyfriend, Dr. Todd Gelfand, who just couldn't accept she didn't want him. The pathetic man had sent tainted bottles of bourbon to her home, believing Trent would then let him run off into the sunset with her, where they could live happily without Gibbs interfering. It had almost worked, but then she had gotten herself shot, which had put their schedule forward considerably. Sec-Nav had gotten his wish, someone that couldn't create a group of Agents loyal to him. Leon Vance was the best candidate; he had shown his leadership qualities during Benoit's murder investigation when they had made him replace Shepard, and best of all, he was unpopular amongst the masses.

The ring leader of Shepard's little following was Jethro Gibbs; so naturally, he was the one that needed to be killed, particularly because he had his own loyalists that could still cause trouble. Gibbs was one of the main reasons Kort had volunteered to take this job. He curled his fist remembering the moment in the observation room after he had given Vance the CIA order, when Gibbs had twisted his thumb. No one did that to him, no one embarrassed him like that, especially not an ex marine, still clinging to the glory days when he'd had the guts to stay in a warzone and fight for his country. Then DiNozzo had punched him… oh he had jumped at the chance to use Jennifer to kill all of the people in NCIS he had a grudge against. Who wouldn't? The Sec-Nav would hunt him down until he was dead now though. He was screwed wasn't he? Or was he?

Trent smiled and picked up his phone, very carefully dialling the one number he would never have thought he would call. He put it to his ear and listened to the ringing, waiting for the person on the other end to pick up.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend."

* * *

Gibbs sped along the roads, watching his mirrors continually to make sure he wasn't being followed. Kort had been much better at chasing him than he had expected and for a moment back then, he had been worried for Abby's safety. Luckily Kort had only fired two bullets, and since he was driving the car as well as shooting, couldn't take corners like he had done. Abby had been silent, knowing that screaming in terror when the bullets started flying was the second most distracting thing to do, the first being to cling to the person trying to rescue you. Well Abby was not the damsel type, she had sat as still as possible in her seat and hoped Kort wouldn't shoot at her. He hadn't, and they were now on their way to the navy yard, almost at the turning to take them to the employee car park. His ring tone sounded in the silent car and he dug it out of his pocket, flipping it open and then addressing the person on the other end.

"Yeah?" Abby watched as Gibbs suddenly tightened his hand on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. He said nothing else, just flipped the phone back down and tossed it on the dashboard, looking grim.

"Who was it?" she asked, worried about the look on his face. He didn't look at her as he replied.

"Kort." Her eyes widened and she waited for him to elaborate. Gibbs simply carried on driving so she asked him something else.

"What did he want?" Gibbs finally looked at her, and she saw he was mad, but also calculating. Whatever it was that he had wanted must be serious.

"A deal."

* * *

It was very early morning, around three o'clock and Cynthia had been trying to sort out the mess Vance's arrest had made of the Director's schedule. She had successfully cancelled every appointment he'd had for the rest of the week and had delegated with the MTAC techs about the time he had booked and who was to tell the overseas operatives they were now leaderless and therefore temporarily unable to help them, and she was attempting to contact every department head in the other NCIS offices so they knew not to ask for Vance. It was very tiring work and she still hadn't finished.

Cynthia squeezed her eyes shut and then opened them, hoping to stay awake for a few moments longer but just couldn't stop herself from yawning. She sighed in defeat and shut down her computer before carefully making sure her desk was clear. She stood and unlocked the Director's office and then walked in, making sure that the files that needed signing off on where stacked correctly. She didn't know if there was going to be a temporary Director coming in to take over from Vance, but she wanted everything to be as straightforward for the newcomer as possible.

Her hands stilled on the stack of folders as her eyes were drawn to a little pile of toothpicks on the corner of the desk. She scrunched her face up in disgust and pulled out a tissue, picking each one up and dropping them in the bin. She suddenly felt awful for every time she had laughed at Nikki Jardine, the clean freak, knowing that given half the chance she would prefer not to touch something so obviously unhygienic too. Jenny would be disgusted if she could see what Leon had done to her office.

The thought of Jenny just made Cynthia's eyes water, and she wiped vigorously at the spot on the table where Vance had left the toothpicks. Sometimes she thought she saw Jenny around NCIS, she'd even had that hallucination about half an hour ago, even though she knew it was impossible. If Jenny had really walked in to work everyone would be talking about it, her return would be on the news and most importantly, she would have gotten an email telling her who she was now secretary to. She would give anything to see Jenny walk through those doors and say-

"Good morning, Cynthia."

"Good morning, Director." She replied instantly, before what she had just heard penetrated the sleepy fog of her mind. She turned to the doorway, dreading seeing nothing there, but too excited at the prospect she wasn't hearing things to ignore the impulse.

Jenny stood leaning against the door, smiling at her with Tony, Ziva and Doctor Mallard stood behind her, all watching her reaction with big grins on their faces. That was the thing about joy; it was contagious. Cynthia stared for a second more and then walked hesitantly over to her friend and ex-employer. Once she was two steps away Jenny moved forwards and happily received Cynthia's hug.

"I've really missed you Cynthia."

"Same here Jenny, you have no idea!" they laughed for a moment and then pulled apart, moving further into the office so everyone could fit in and close the door. "I thought-" Cynthia began and Tony filled her in on everything they had discovered.

"Did he ever stay in here on his own?" Ziva asked her.

"The Sec-Nav? Oh… I never thought but yes, he was in here quite often when Jenny was in MTAC, he said he'd wait for her but usually left before she came out." Cynthia shrugged. "He said he had other appointments, I believed him. I'm so sorry Jenny." Jenny shook her head and waved off the apology.

"It's fine Cynthia." Jenny turned to Ducky. "Is there any way we can link him to the drugs?" Ducky shook his head regretfully.

"No. he never left a trace of himself on the glass and even if he did its circumstantial. He was in here quite often as Cynthia said."

"So he can get off Scot-free?" Tony said incredulously, this was just too much to bear. If they couldn't tie the Sec-Nav to the case, they would be in danger for the rest of their lives.

"No, but Kort might." Everyone turned to the source of the new voice and Gibbs walked through the doors, followed closely by Abby, who squealed happily and threw herself into Jenny's arms as soon as she saw her. Jenny hung on to Abby, the sense of loss that she brought with her stinging her eyes. She loved Abby like her own, but that made it harder to remember she was alone. She looked over at Jethro, her heart skipping when he looked at her and realised she was herself, rather than the broken woman that had cried in his arms. He gave her a tentative smile, still smarting from watching her walk away with his gun, and then he turned his attention back to the rest of the team. Gibbs pulled out his phone and waved it at them. "Kort just called me, he wants to deal. Even if we kill the Sec-Nav, we'll be prosecuted for murdering an innocent man, but Kort has a plan. He'll give us the Sec-Nav if we give him over to the CIA."

"If we give him to the CIA he'll never be tried as part of this conspiracy. He'll be spirited away." Jenny protested. She wanted Kort dead, not disappeared.

"Yes, but he really is the only chance we've got."


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you to black widow mistress, Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, HesMines and Pandora of Ithilien for reviewing! Sorry for the short chapter, but I wanted the next part to be separate to this.

Kort smirked at his phone as Gibbs hung up on him and then dialled another number, his finger pausing for a moment on the call button. His survival hinged upon his ability to pull off this crazy double cross, which no sane asset would try until the run for the border had failed, and probably not even then, but Trent Kort was not an average asset. He was good looking and very intelligent, and that wasn't egotism, it was fact. His visage could get him in to places others couldn't get and his intelligence could get him in to everywhere else, he knew it and his Agency knew it. He was a damn good CIA Agent and his Agency would be loathed to lose him, so getting rid of the Sec-Nav would make sure it didn't need to.

That didn't make what he had to do any easier though. He sighed deeply and then pressed the call button, bringing his phone to his ear and listening to it ring. He wasn't supposed to call his associate on the same phone more than once, they were using one use throwaway's for business, but this new development should peak his interest enough for it to not matter. The phone was picked up and Kort readied himself for a prizewinning performance.

"Hello. Is it done?" the Sec-Nav asked quietly. He must not be alone.

"Yes. I need to meet with you. The next part of the plan needs to begin, but there are problems." Kort could almost hear the other man's brain working over possible repercussions of coming to meet him. He could only hope that the guy thought he was home free.

"What kind of problems?" the Sec-Nav asked, his voice dropping slightly in volume but swelling in authority that would more than likely send the unlucky recipients' blood cold and turn them into jabbering wrecks. Kort however, chuckled at him and replied in his customary condescending tone. Anything else would make him suspicious.

"The kind I cannot divulge over the phone." The Sec-Nav sighed and then Kort heard the sound of his phone being passed to his other ear.

"Alright, I shall meet you at the house-" he started to say, but Kort cut him off.

"We can't use that. Gregory is still there, you don't want to be linked to him, do you?" Kort's voice was smooth and sweet like honey, the tone that could melt a woman's heart or tell a business partner that they are not essential to complete a mission. He winced, wondering if he was laying his carelessness on too thick. The Sec-Nav was quiet for a moment and then he harrumphed angrily.

"Right. I'll meet you at the back up house in an hour." The line went dead and Kort let out an unsteady breath. That was the difficult part over with. Now he just needed to get all the players in the same room and then leave them to their bloodshed. In the unlikely event the Sec-Nav survives the fire fight; he could take him out and contact the CIA. They would hide him until the investigation blew over. He punched up the previously called number and waited for Gibbs to pick up. It was time to set up the next phase of his plan.

* * *

Gibbs watched Jenny hold onto Abby like a lifeline, watched her cling to the one thing her job couldn't give her. The look on her face when she had asked him if Abby was her daughter haunted him. He'd felt like he had just killed a child because of how attached Jenny had become to the idea of having a daughter, and the magnitude of her heartache made him wonder if she had ever wanted one. She must have though; otherwise she wouldn't have felt so empty when it had been revealed to be a lie, would she? Abby pressed her face into Jenny's neck and sighed, before turning an odd look to him. He felt his gut act up in that moment and he just knew she was planning mischief. She smiled at him innocently and then held out her arms for him to join the hug. He shook his head minutely, trying not to draw attention to himself but she waggled her fingers at him and then nudged Jenny. Jenny looked at her and then her eyes were drawn to him. She raised an eyebrow at him and then held out a hand to him.

"Afraid to hug your favourite, Jethro?" she asked him slyly. He smirked and then walked over to them opening his arms and then dragging Abby from Jenny's embrace into his own. He grinned at her over Abby's head and she laughed quietly, the feelings he wished he was sharing with her verbally being communicated by his eyes. He knew she understood, she always had. He squeezed Abby and then let her go, pulling his phone out of his pocket when he felt it vibrating. Well, Kort did say he would call back.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

* * *

Kort drove slowly down the dark streets, his rendezvous point somewhere within the mess of crisscrossing roads. He didn't trust the man he was meeting, this place was too isolated, too dark and oppressive, but he had a lot of experience in covert operations. He wouldn't be caught unawares. He just hoped Gibbs would come through on time, he wouldn't be able to keep the Sec-Nav talking for long, he would become suspicious quickly, if he wasn't already.

Spotting the house, he pulled over and checked his weapon, making sure he had a full clip and that his concealed weapons were readily accessible. If this meeting went south before Gibbs showed up, he would need to defend himself. He opened the door and looked down each street, making sure no one was watching. The last thing he wanted was witnesses.

"You're late." A voice said behind him. He turned around; a smirk firmly planted on his face and watched the Sec-Nav walk out of the shadows. He was watching him carefully, something he hadn't done before. He circled him and checked him over with his eyes, looking for weapons, and Kort felt his stomach tighten. He knew something was wrong. Trent surreptitiously glanced up at the windows of the safe house and saw two men up there, both with guns trained on him. He knew the mission had failed, but how? Gibbs wouldn't double cross him; he had too much to lose. He must have other spies in NCIS, spies Kort didn't know about who had seen Jenny.

"You're worried. You need not be, the mission is not over until I have completed my objective." The Sec-Nav grinned at him nastily and shook his head.

"Did you really think you could double cross me and I wouldn't find out?" Trent sighed and shrugged, nonchalantly planning his escape route. He could take out one of those guys and use the Sec-Nav as a human shield while he killed the other, then he could snap the mongrels neck and go to CIA headquarters. He could get out of helping Gibbs that way too, so he would go to prison for murder. His day brightened considerably at that thought. All he had to do was keep him talking until he rounded him a little more…

"How _did_ you find out?" he asked, hoping to lead him into a long and boring reveal of his contacts. _Just a little farther…_

"An asset in NCIS who has yet to be used to her full potential. I have something she wants and she knows things I want to know." The Sec-Nav lit a cigarette and took a long drag, watching the emotions play on Kort's face. He wasn't foolish enough to get between him and his men, but it was proving quite entertaining making Kort believe he might.

"You will never get away with all of the things you have done; I have already recorded a confession and mailed it to NCIS. You will be found out." Trent said, his tone mocking. The Sec-Nav was done for, he just hadn't realised it yet. Gibbs would be on time, he always was.

"Actually I won't. You are the only one who knows of my involvement in this conspiracy against Jenny Shepard, no one else can tie me to it. With you gone, all I have to do is divert all of NCIS's mail to my house and I will find and destroy the tape. Thank you for telling me about that by the way." He looked up at his men and made a slashing motion across his neck, telling them to execute him, but instead of his men, he found himself looking up at Agent DiNozzo and Officer David. They both had guns trained on him and their windows were open.

"I think he would like us to shoot him." Ziva said. Tony chuckled

"I don't know if we should though. What do you think boss?" he shouted down to the street and the Sec-Nav turned to see Gibbs and Shepard standing in front of him. Jenny flashed him a quick smile and then his world faded to black as Gibbs' fist connected with his face.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, Pandora of Ithilien, black widow mistress, HesMines, ncis-csiNY, sn855850 and JenniferS. DNCIS for reviewing! Thank you to everyone who reads and enjoys this story! *Edit, i had to put a space in the last reviewers name, it kept being deleted for some reason.*

The Sec-Nav's unconscious body fell to the ground and Gibbs shook his fist, more out of precaution than actual injury. The saying went 'never hit someone with a closed fist', but the guy deserved it and it had felt good. Gibbs shot a look at Kort, who casually walked over to him, trying not to show him any weakness. Trent hated him and the feeling was mutual, but he wasn't the one Trent was worried about. Jenny stood next to Gibbs, glaring at Kort murderously. She carried no weapons, Gibbs having disarmed her moments before they had infiltrated the area, but that didn't mean she wasn't dangerous to him. Gibbs hadn't wanted her to make the mistake of killing anyone in revenge and preventing them from getting a confession, but she could still do some serious damage fuelled only by hate, using her hands and feet.

"I guess we don't need your help Kort. In fact you needed ours." Tony called from the window, causing the CIA agent to roll his eyes irritably.

"A temporary situation that I could have gotten myself out of, without your help. I have been in tighter spots and survived." He called back. Tony scoffed and muttered something to Ziva, making her laugh. Kort narrowed his eyes and focussed on Gibbs. "Well, at least your timing is admirable." Kort said to him unpleasantly, confident that they needed his help so they wouldn't attack him. Jenny just scowled at him and then walked away, checking the area for possible witnesses. The last thing they needed was to be seen knocking out the Secretary of the Navy and dragging him into a building whilst armed.

"Help me get him inside." Gibbs gestured towards the Sec-Nav and Kort acquiesced, bending and lifting the man's shoulders, while Gibbs grabbed his legs. They carried the Sec-Nav inside the safe house while Jenny watched the streets for spectators or reporters. He was a high profile man after all; they usually gained an entourage wherever they went. She saw no one watching and then entered the building, closing and locking the door behind herself.

Tony and Ziva appeared from the staircase, bringing the gunmen down from the top floor. They lead the two men in front of them, their guns pointing at their backs while they fumed; probably annoyed at themselves for not realising someone was sneaking up on them. Tony and Ziva led them through to the kitchen area, where they cuffed them to chairs and put the kettle on for coffee. It might be a while before the Sec-Nav gave them the information they needed to know. Jenny left them to it and followed Gibbs to the living room, where he and Kort had bound the Sec-Nav to a chair.

"How are we going to do this?" She asked Jethro, pointing at the prone figure.

"Persuasion, threats, deals and then Ziva as a last resort, standard interrogation procedure." he kept his face completely straight as he said it and Jenny smiled in response to his attempt at making her laugh. They chuckled when they heard Tony's voice drift in from the kitchen.

"Did you hear that Ziva? It might be your playtime soon. Oh yeah, you guys don't know… well you are in the presence of a bona-fide assassin, proficient in many types of… torture." Ziva's laughter joined his and Kort shifted impatiently. They didn't have time for this; well, he didn't have time for this.

"We should just kill him now. My confession will be all the evidence you will need." He said to Gibbs, who shook his head immediately.

"No. We need to know who the asset in NCIS is, only he can tell us and for that he needs to be alive." He stated simply, and Kort knew that no amount of talk would change his mind.

"Fine, but you are making a mistake. You should have shot him when you had the chance, none of you will have the guts to do it later." He directed his gaze to Jenny this time and she bristled in anger. If she still had a weapon she would have shot him in a heartbeat and she found her cheeks flushing at the memory of how Jethro had gotten her gun from her. It had been much the same way she had taken his from him, back in his basement. He had taken her arm to stop her from proceeding and then suddenly leaned into her personal space. The moment his lips had touched hers she had thrown her arms around his neck and kissed him quite passionately, only for him to ease out of the kiss moments later and walk off with her gun in his hand. _Damn that man_, she fumed silently. Did that mean he felt the same? Or did he think she had lied and decided to get his own back? Why did he have to make such simple things so complicated?

"Be that as it may, he will pay for his crimes regardless." She said, speaking up for the first time. She directed her words to the both of them, but her meaning she applied to Kort. He would get his comeuppance, and she only hoped she was at the other end of the gun barrel when he got it. She would see him dead for everything he had done to her father, to her and even to Benoit, whom she had shown mercy, only to be accused of his murder later. Kort stared at her, sensing her double meaning and weighing the mood in the room. If her relationship with Gibbs was strong he wouldn't let her kill him, he would stop her for her own good. He smirked at her and she clenched her fists.

"You know I can't help but think DiNozzo is right, if we get him to confess, we won't need you. Don't get too comfortable." Gibbs said to Kort, who glared at his retreating back and then shot a glare at Jenny, who was now grinning at him. _Enjoy it while it lasts_, Trent thought angrily.

Just then the Sec-Nav stirred, a low groan emitting from his mouth as he rolled his neck to relieve the strain that being punched and then tied upright in a chair, had put in it. Gibbs leaned over in front of him and waited for him to open his eyes. He did so moments later and immediately tried to pull his arms free. Upon finding himself stuck fast, he raised his head to look at Gibbs and scowled.

"Interesting that you are collaborating with the architect of your present situation." He stretched his mouth, his jaw aching from the impact of Gibbs fist hitting him earlier. "Oh and I hope you enjoyed the punch, you'll be regretting it later, I'll make sure of it." he sneered at Gibbs, who ignored his words, not letting his threats get to him. He didn't have any power here, so he couldn't follow through on anything. He wouldn't be leaving this building alive either.

"Who is the asset that you have in NCIS?" he asked, his voice hard and steady. The Sec-Nav smirked at him and settled further into his chair.

"Now why would I tell you that?" his question failed to make Gibbs angry, he just smiled back and towered over him.

"Because I asked." His voice was low and dangerous; making sure the Sec-Nav couldn't mistake his tone.

"There is nothing you can do that would make me give up my source." Sec-Nav looked around as he said it, his eyes taking in all present. Jenny became impatient and decided to join in the interrogation.

"Why? Do you really think you are getting out of here alive if you don't tell us? Surely this person isn't worth your life?" her voice was sweet, making her words seem reasonable. She advanced on the Sec-Nav from the other side of him that Gibbs was on, carefully making him feel boxed in. Psychological pressure would make him cave faster than unveiled threats. "How sensible are you being, if death is the price of your silence?" he took a moment to think over her words and then shrugged indifferently.

"Agent Nikki Jardine. She gave me all of the information I wanted, in return for something she wanted." His words were met with silent disbelief for a few moments.

"I don't believe you." Jenny said, losing the honey layer to her voice as she thought of how much trust she showed to her Agents, particularly Nikki, who had been suspected of treachery before by Gibbs. She had been innocent then, surely she wouldn't actually indulge in such a betrayal now?

"Do you think I care? You will never get away with this. I have more influential friends than you and yours still think you're dead. Who out of the two of us do you think will be cleared of all charges? Do what you want to me, it's just more evidence to condemn you." he grinned at them, closing his eyes and steeling himself for a blow but it never came. He opened his eyes to see Gibbs leading Jenny out of the room, Kort following, leaving him alone.

* * *

"You have to kill him. He is correct about his friends; he could have all of your evidence turned against you. You have no choice." Trent said the moment they were in the kitchen area. They obviously thought the justice system would prove them innocent, but some key people in that system were just as corrupt as the criminals. The Sec-Nav was friends with nearly all of them, they wouldn't get a fair hearing and they would all most likely get the death penalty so they couldn't speak out. He wasn't willing to just sit by while his future was decided by his enemy. If they didn't kill him, he would.

He sneered when he thought of how Gibbs stayed his hand when the Sec-Nav had promised them he would have revenge. He'd have thought that Gibbs wouldn't have been afraid to kill when it was necessary, but it turned out he was just as much of a coward as Shepard. Trent watched as Gibbs casually wrapped an arm around Jenny's waist, her head turning to him sharply in shock, and he groaned in annoyance. What further use could the Sec-Nav be to them? Of course; they wanted a confession from him. If the Sec-Nav did confess, he would be superfluous to their freedom; they wouldn't need his testimony so he wouldn't be sent to the CIA. He needed to act; and fast.

"We have to do nothing, Kort. He is going to tell us everything we want to know, then we'll decide what we do with him." Gibbs replied, focussing back on Jenny, who seemed to soak up the attention. Kort rolled his eyes and leaned back on one of the kitchen counters. All he had to do was sneak away. Kort surreptitiously reached for his gun and made sure no one saw the movement. When Gibbs and his team were all occupied he slipped back into the living room where the Sec-Nav was wrestling with his bonds. He was almost free too. Well at least that gave him a reason. He moved so that he was standing before the wriggling man in the chair and then he raised his gun, the click of the hammer moving back making the Sec-Nav freeze. He looked up slowly into Kort's face and showed him true fear. He thought that Gibbs would keep him alive, but he knew that Kort would kill him.

Kort didn't hesitate any longer; he pulled the trigger, the shot echoed around the room as the bullet shot forth from the gun and hit the Sec-Nav in the head. His body jerked as the bullet tore its way through his head, blood and brain matter pouring from the holes in the front and back of him and he sagged limply in the chair. Mere seconds later Gibbs and DiNozzo appeared from the kitchen, their guns drawn, Ziva and Jenny appearing moments later, staring at the dead body in the middle of the room.

"Looks like you _do_ need my confession after all." He said, putting his gun back in its holster.

* * *

McGee woke up in his bed, fully clothed with a headache. He squinted when the street-light filtering in from the window struck his sensitive eyes. He looked over at his bedside clock and nearly fell out of bed, his head swimming slightly. He couldn't remember getting home last night, what had happened to him? Had he drunk himself into a stupor and had to be taken home by Tony or Gibbs. He winced as he thought of the nicknames Tony would be giving him all day. Getting out of bed he dressed in clean clothes and washed his face before setting off for NCIS. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling Abby would be there.

The drive to work was fast; since it was dark the streets were still relatively clear and he pulled in to the car park within minutes. He went straight to Abby's lab, ignoring the strange mood that the building seemed to be in, you'd think they had all seen a ghost, the way they kept watching the entrance. He walked through the door to Abby's lab and she spun on the spot, a bright excited look on her face, which faded slightly when she realised he wasn't Jenny, but it was replaced by a happy smile meant only for him.

"Timmy! I wondered when you'd wake up." she grinned at him and the stricken look that passed over his face. Had they slept together last night? What did she mean?

"I'm sorry Abs, I don't remember anything from last night. I- er… the last thing I remember is… drinking with you and…" he trailed off when she suddenly hugged him, but it wasn't a fierce hug, it was a soft, affectionate hug. "Erm… did I miss something?"

"Yes, you missed _so much_." She started filling him in on the details of the case, telling him all about Jenny, but he could sense that she was keeping something from him. He put his hands on her shoulders and held her at arm's length for a second, just looking at her face. Every now and then, a strange haunted expression appeared and it worried him. A lot had happened in one night and something was hurting her.

"Abby, what aren't you telling me?" he asked her gently. She bit her lip and looked away from him. Being strong for so long had been hard, but she really had felt safe while her family had been around her. They had left to meet with Kort though, Ducky had gone to see to his mother and she had been alone. The thoughts had crept up on her then, and she had found herself jumping at noises all around her, watching the people that dropped by more intensely than she usually would and waiting to see if they would attack her. She was a mess, but now McGee was here with her, and she was safe again. Filling him in on that subject would be harder.

"I'll tell you later Timmy, but now we have a job to do. Gibbs called me earlier. He told me to find Nikki Jardine; he wants a word with her."


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you to Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, Pandora of Ithilien, black widow mistress, HesMines, sn855850 and JenniferS. DNCIS for reviewing!

McGee and Abby took the elevator up to Nikki Jardine's department, carefully going over how they would approach her and what they would do with her once they had her. McGee was confident that she wouldn't run, that would look very suspicious and she was obviously going to try and make them believe she's not guilty. Abby was just worried about other Agents starting rumours, especially if Nikki is innocent. That could strain interagency relations quite badly.

"Should we cuff her, McGee? What if she's innocent?" she asked him for the third time. She paced the small confines of the elevator, wringing her hands as a show of her discomfort. McGee patiently answered her question, for the third time, and checked his phone for any calls from Gibbs.

"We only cuff her if she runs; otherwise we just escort her to interrogation and leave her there for however long it takes for Gibbs to get back." he turned to Abby and caught her arm, stopping her progress around the elevator, and bringing her into a hug to try and help her to calm down. She relaxed into his arms and buried her face into the crook of his neck, just breathing in his scent. It was calming, and she decided she would bite the bullet and tell him what had happened to her, or almost happened. She had to address it before it festered in her mind and made her afraid of everyone. She regretfully had to force herself away from his embrace when the doors opened on their destination floor.

"Thanks Timmy." She said to him, stopping him from leaving the lift immediately. She knew that now wasn't the time, so she just smoothed out his jacket. He smiled at her and then led the way to Nikki's desk, nodding and saying hello to the Agents that worked there. The other Agents were surprised to see them, but didn't hinder their progress. Nikki was sat at her desk, diligently typing away on her keyboard and not taking much notice of her surroundings. McGee approached her desk and then leaned over it, catching her attention.

"Agent Jardine, we need you to come with us, please." She looked up at him in shock and then glanced between him and Abby uncertainly. She locked her computer and then nodded to them, not wanting their conversation to be overheard. She stood and then rounded her desk before following them to the elevator.

"Can I ask what this is about?" she asked them, watching McGee press the button for the ground floor, and she waited patiently for an answer. McGee glanced at Abby and then directed his full attention to Nikki.

"Agent Gibbs would like to talk to you in interrogation." He said simply, hoping she wouldn't freak out and try to fight her way out of the building. It didn't seem very likely, but then did they even know her true nature? For all they knew, her germ-phobia was an act.

"Who is he interrogating?" she asked, genuinely interested in why she would possibly be needed in an interrogation. McGee kept silent for a few moments until the doors opened and he stepped out, allowing her to walk just ahead of him, with Abby taking the lead.

"You."

* * *

Gibbs stared at the corpse angrily, annoyed at himself for giving Kort the opening he'd needed to do something like this. He had expected him to try; he just hadn't foreseen that he would be so easily distracted by Jenny. That was his own fault entirely; he could have disarmed her in a different way, but he had felt like getting his own back for what had happened in his basement. He hadn't realised that she would suddenly command all of his attention after one kiss as herself. The kiss in his basement had been wonderful, but it hadn't been _her_. She had kissed him like it was their first time, and while that had been sweet, it had lacked their usual energy. The kiss _with_ their energy had hyper stimulated his Jenny sense, and every movement she made seemed to be to entice him. She must be doing it on purpose, or maybe he was imagining it.

She stood beside him for a few seconds longer and then sprang forwards, stopping a few inches from Kort. The CIA Agent regarded her warily for a moment before deciding she was just trying to intimidate him. Then she brought her elbow up and pain exploded on his face when she hit him with the flat side, the strongest, boniest part, and his head snapped back. She spun on the spot and walked out of the room to the kitchen, unheeding of the sudden flurry of guns that were now being pointed around. Kort whipped out his gun and pointed it at her retreating figure as Gibbs, Tony and Ziva all pointed theirs at him.

"Try it, and we'll be decorating this place with your insides." Tony said to him. Kort reached up and wiped some of the blood from his chin, his jaw clenching when more just ran down. Tony watched the tight control of the double Agent slipping and he decided to help him lose it. They would get an excuse to shoot him with a clear conscience then. "Ziva, what do you make of that nose bleed?"

"Red does not suit him." she said, trying to smother her grin.

"Yeah, I expected more of a Vulcan green, myself." Tony added, throwing a nasty look at the older man, who was trying to stop the bleeding by pinching the bridge of his nose. His gun was still out, but was pointing at Tony now. That guy needed an attitude adjustment. He put his gun down though, there was no way he was getting out of here if bullets started flying, he needed to bide his time. Tony and Ziva put theirs down and then Gibbs motioned for them to leave the room. They did so, throwing untrusting glances at Kort. Gibbs wasted no time in closing the distance between them, and as soon as he was close enough, he disarmed Kort and then grabbed his thumb, pressing and twisting it until Kort was on his knees, trying not to show he was in pain. Gibbs was impressed, but not enough to cut him any slack. He leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear.

"Threaten any of my people again, and we'll take our chances on this case, without your help." He released Kort and pushed him forwards, before following his team to the kitchen. Kort needed them just as much as they needed him. The CIA wouldn't be able to help him if they revealed he was in on the conspiracy against Jenny, or when they proved he had killed the Sec-Nav. If he wanted the CIA's protection, he would have to confess and then wait to be turned over to his Agency. Right now however, Gibbs had Nikki Jardine to interrogate; Tony could record Kort's statement.

* * *

When Gibbs entered the interrogation room, Nikki had been waiting for over an hour. She looked calm and collected, but her hands betrayed her nervousness. She was twisting her fingers in her lap anxiously. Gibbs sat down at the table; sitting opposite her and carefully placing his hands flat on the table surface. She was afraid to touch the table, and seeing him putting his hands so casually on the top made her shudder in disgust. How many people before him had touched that? When had it last been cleaned? She focussed on him when he spoke. "Do you know why you are here, Agent Jardine?" she shook her head.

"Not really sir-Agent Gibbs." She corrected herself quickly, trying not to give him cause, or more cause, to shout at her. He watched her, weighing up her reactions to what he was saying and listening carefully to every word she said, trying to catch her out.

"Really? Well, let me help you figure it out." He said gently, almost like he was sincerely hoping to jog her memory. "The Sec-Nav has been involved in a conspiracy to murder certain individuals inside NCIS. Ring any bells?" Nikki blanched and her eyes widened in surprise.

"No sir, absolutely not." Her voice wavered at the beginning, but it became stronger by the end. _The Sec-Nav wanted to kill his employees? It's not possible. _Gibbs narrowed his eyes and sat forwards in his chair slightly.

"Hmm. Part of this conspiracy was a plot against Director Shepard. A plot to have her removed _permanently_ from NCIS. Am I getting anywhere Jardine?" his voice was insistent and spoke of his exasperation with her denials, and she felt her heart begin to race. _Did he think…?_ She shook her head.

"No sir, I have no idea-" he cut her off, standing up from the table to tower over her.

"The Sec-Nav named you as his source in NCIS, the one that gave him the information necessary to nearly kill the only witness to tie him to the conspiracy." He practically shouted at her, and Nikki felt her stubborn streak kick in. she sat straighter in her chair and crossed her arms angrily.

"I have no knowledge of any conspiracy sir, please believe me! I had no quarrel with Director Shepard; I liked her." She implored him to listen to her, how could they believe that she would betray them? That she could want Director Shepard dead?

"She likes you too Nikki, which is why she is finding it so hard to believe you were involved with the plot to kill her, but I know better than to put blind faith into someone." His voice dropped almost into a deadly whisper and Nikki felt a bubble of hopelessness inside her. _Wait. Did he say…?_

"What do you mean she _'Is finding it?' _sir? I thought she was dead." Nikki asked carefully, not sure if it was the right question to ask, but too intrigued to stay quiet. Gibbs smirked at her and rounded the table so he was standing behind her. She kept her head straight forward, resisting the urge to watch his progress around her.

"Well she isn't. Nearly was though, I guess we owe that to you." his voice was very close to her ear and she was unable to stop herself from jumping in fright. She was getting sick of this.

"Sir! I don't know what you are talking about!" she shouted out angrily and he moved so he was right next to her, leaning in close to unnerve her and make her feel even more under threat.

"You were passing information to the Sec-Nav, Jardine. That information could have killed my entire team!" he shouted at her, watching her wince in discomfort at the proximity of his voice to her ear. She shook her head and then turned to him fully.

"I haven't passed any…! Oh." She whispered, her face suddenly clearing off all anger as her surprise manifested itself. Gibbs scoffed.

"'_Oh?'_ Suddenly remembered your guilt, Agent Jardine?" he asked, but she shouted back at him almost before he finished speaking.

"No, it wasn't like that!"

"What was it like?" he asked quietly, rounding back around the table and sitting back in his chair. Nikki took a deep breath and started from the beginning.

"I was in the hospital sir, with my brother, and the Sec-Nav wandered into the room. He was lost; he'd gotten the wrong corridor. I helped him to find his way. He asked me about my brother, asked what was wrong with him, so I told him. I said there was some special medicine that he needed but I couldn't afford it, he said he could get it for me; all I had to do was earn it." she said forlornly. Gibbs nodded and pressed her to go on.

"By betraying the Agency."

"No! All he wanted was for me to tell him about all of the interesting things that happened in NCIS, gossip really, but nothing I told him seemed to be good enough." She looked up into Gibbs' accusing eyes and implored him to understand. "He's the Secretary of the Navy! It's his Agency too. I just figured he didn't get on with Vance, since no one seemed to like him or be able to talk to him. It seemed reasonable that he would have needed someone else in NCIS to tell him what was going on here on a daily basis." She closed her eyes for a moment.

"And then?" Gibbs prodded, knowing there was more, but unsure of how she fit in to what the Sec-Nav had told him. Nikki wiped her eyes, a lone tear escaping and slipping down her cheek.

"I saw… I thought I saw Director Shepard walk into the building a few hours ago. I wasn't going to say anything to him, but he realised I was distracted when he called me." She sighed heavily and more tears followed the path down her face that the lone one had forged. "Once I told him that, he said he would get the medicine for me, I thought he must have had enough of the gossip." She lost her control and sobbed, bringing her hands up to her face to cover her mouth and try to smother the sounds of her distress. "My brother isn't going to get that medicine, is he?" Gibbs stood and rounded the table once more, this time putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. With the Sec-Nav dead, there was very little chance of her getting what she needed for her brother unless they had signed an agreement, which he doubted.

"No, he isn't."


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you to black widow mistress, HesMines, Pandora of Ithilien, Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, JenniferS. DNCIS and sn855850 for reviewing! Not far to go now!

The sun shone down on the Navy yard, reflecting off of the dozens of Press vans and camera's that milled around outside the gates. The guards kept a watchful eye on the paparazzi, making sure none of them slipped through security to try and get an exclusive scoop on the story of the decade. The news of the Sec-Nav's underhand scheming had somehow been leaked to the press, and the headlines that morning had told the public about what had happened far quicker than the employees of NCIS had wanted. Headlines like; '_Traitorous Sec-Nav in plot against NCIS'_ and '_Director Shepard back from the dead'_.

Jenny hadn't been able to leave the building, not that she had anywhere to go since Gibbs had burned down her house, but they did still have a job to do. Leon Vance was still missing, and the Sec-Nav had been the only one that knew of his whereabouts. Gibbs would be interrogating the two men they had caught with the Sec-Nav, hopefully they would know where he was and he would be found alive. Leon's wife had turned up distraught on the doorstep with her children, trying to get away from the press, and they hadn't been able to turn her away. She hadn't heard from Leon since the day he had been 'taken into custody' and she feared the worst, they all did. It hadn't really been that long since then, but they didn't know the conditions he was being kept in, so they were erring on the side of caution.

Kort had been turned over, reluctantly, to the CIA in return for the confession he had promised them, so they didn't need to worry about being framed for murdering an innocent man. Abby and Ducky had processed the Sec-Nav's clothing and body respectively, looking for any clues as to Leon's whereabouts, but so far nothing they had found was conclusive. All Leon's hopes for survival hinged upon Gibbs' ability to break the Sec-Nav's two gunmen.

Tony, Ziva and McGee were in the observation part of interrogation, watching the two gunmen look around, getting increasingly nervous as the hours passed. Gibbs had left them there, in the same room, for two hours already, and he wasn't going to appear until they began to argue, which looked like it was going to happen at any moment. Gibbs was with Jenny up in her old office. It was time for a long talk between the two of them.

"Do you think they'll let me come back to work? I didn't technically quit after all." Jenny asked, sitting down on the couch in the Director's office. She didn't really mind what job she got, for the moment, she just wanted to be busy. Jethro closed the door behind him and crossed the room to sit next to her. She leaned back and relaxed against the material of the sofa, feeling herself getting sleepy. She had been up for much longer than the others because she had been trying to jog her memory and plan her assassinations. It was all catching up to her now, and she closed her eyes, sighing softly.

"I'm not sure, but there will be slightly bigger concerns, like 'where are you going to live?' and 'who will replace the Sec-Nav?'" Jethro said, watching her rest against the cushions, her head dropping back and exposing the column of her neck and forcing her chest further forward in to his unabashed gaze. She took a deep breath and he smirked, she was doing this on purpose. _If you want to stay with me you just have to ask, Jen,_ he thought to himself, enjoying the view but not offering anything until she committed herself to asking.

"Oh I know, I just can't help but want a little bit of stability in my life right now. Nowhere to live, no job, no money." She listed her problems and Jethro's eyebrows rose. He hadn't thought of all of that, he had just assumed she would slip straight back into her old life and they could carry on like they always had.

"No money?" he asked, confused. Surely she had a fortune waiting for her. She turned her head to him and opened her eyes, looking him over carefully while she answered. He hadn't offered her the chance to stay with him or anything, didn't he want her? She had thought he did, she had been so sure after the kiss and his actions towards her at the Sec-Nav's safe house. Obviously she was wrong. Her heart sank but she put a smile on her face regardless. He had probably preferred it when she had not been a part of his life.

"I was dead and with no descendants to inherit it, the state will have taken it. I'll have to go see my bank to get it all back, and I'm not sure how long that will take. I'll have to live somewhere in the mean time. Maybe I can stay here while my job is in question." She said, thinking about it seriously. Jethro was apparently not going to offer, so she had to make contingency plans. Maybe Cynthia could help her.

"Leon might need it." Jethro said, half jokingly since Leon would in all probability understand her situation but he wanted her to ask him. Was the thought of living with him that terrible? Jenny looked away from him dejectedly; he didn't even want her in the building.

"He has a home to go to." she said, defending her suggestion, but no longer caring about it. Ziva might let her stay with her, Abby might too. Jethro however, was out of patience; it seemed he would need to be the one to throw his heart on line first, once again.

"Stop beating about the bush Jen. We both know where you are going to be living, so just suck up your damn pride and ask me." He said to her angrily and she turned her shocked gaze to him and sat up abruptly, narrowing her eyes irritably at his presumptuousness.

"What makes you think I want to live with you Jethro? You're the reason I don't have anywhere to stay in the first place!" she said venomously and Gibbs stood in response, physically moving away from the fury that he was about to unleash. He hadn't meant to make her angry, he had just wanted to know where he stood, but now she was fishing for a fight he would damn well give her one. He had a few bones to pick with her, himself.

"Well if you had done your job right in Europe, Jenny, Svetlana wouldn't have been able to come after you and there wouldn't have been any reason for me to hide her body in the flames!" he shouted back and Jen stood, instinctively trying to even up the ground between them.

"That's another thing! How do you think we will be explaining that body in my house now that they know I'm alive?" she asked, her voice rising above his and echoing out of the office, making Cynthia look up from her computer and smile. _Just like old times._

"Wishful thinking!" Gibbs replied, seething. Jenny recoiled a little and hardened her expression against the hurt his words had caused. Gibbs saw the effect his words had on her, he could read her so well, but he was too livid to take it back. She had hurt him ten times as much as he had ever hurt her, part of him enjoyed the small victory over her emotions, but the majority regretted it already.

"If you wanted me dead so badly you should have just let Kort do his job!" she shouted back at him, her heart constricting painfully, all of her hopes of that kiss actually meaning something to him dissolving, burning her heart as it evaporated.

"Maybe I should have! I can't believe how pig-headed and stubborn you are being after everything that has happened! This isn't just about you, Jen!" Gibbs took a step towards her and she took one closer to him, not about to be outdone or backed into a corner.

"I never thought or said that it was, Jethro, _you_ are making this personal!"

"I'm making it personal? You just started this by blaming me for arson!"

"Which you did!"

"To protect you!"

"I didn't need your protection!"

"You have _**always**_ needed my protection!"

"You chauvinistic pi-!" her words were cut off by his lips, when they crashed into hers, his arms grabbing her shoulders and bringing her flush against him, their lips bruising in the blazing passion that had changed so quickly from fury. She put up a token fight and then gave up, wrapping her arms around his neck and crushing their lips further together as the spiral of arousal ran through her veins, sending her light headed. The silence that descended was broken only by soft moans as their tongues continued the fight, neither willing to admit defeat in any aspect of their relationship.

Jenny pushed him backwards and his knees hit the couch, sending them falling back, Gibbs sitting on it and Jenny straddling his lap, their mouths not disengaging from each other at any point. Jenny wriggled closer to him on his lap and Gibbs' hands travelled from her shoulders down to her chest, stopping to pay attention to her breasts, causing her to arch her back and groan into his mouth. A jolt of excitement shot from her breasts down to her core, and the corresponding heat and wetness made her shudder against him, gasping slightly against his mouth. Her fingers threaded into his hair and gripped it, pulling his head back so she could kiss down his neck, nipping and sucking under his jaw until he took control back.

His hands ran down to her hips and crushed her groin into his, the heat becoming unbearable fast. He flipped them, pushing her down into the cushions and covering her body with his own, her legs parting around his waist, allowing him to settle intimately with her. She ran her hands down his back to his butt and gripped him, her fingers softly kneading the cheeks. His mouth retook hers and he felt her body relax as she submitted to him, her aggressiveness changing to a soft loving acceptance.

His phone began to vibrate then and it took a few moments for them to reluctantly pull apart, gasping from lack of oxygen and reaction from the passion and arousal coursing through their bodies. Neither wanted to stop, but their duties and obligations began to filter in through the haze. Gibbs sat up and pulled out his phone, whilst trying to regain control of his emotions before answering.

"Gibbs, Yeah?"

"_The argument has begun. Do you wish to begin questioning them?_" Ziva's amused voice asked over the sound of shouting in the background. Gibbs looked over at Jenny, who hadn't yet moved from her position on the cushions on the couch, her eyes still clouded with excitement. She was attempting to bring down her heart rate, but his proximity was making it difficult. He reached over to her and stroked her stomach soothingly, his touch no longer attempting to arouse her, now he was trying to calm her. She had such a passionate nature that she found it hard to rid herself of her arousal once he had invoked it. That had never really been a problem for them in the past; they could get done what was needed before they were seriously late if they were disturbed, but the circumstances were different this time. There was no time and they weren't actually together. She waved off his hand and then gestured to downstairs.

"Go break them Jethro, I'll be down shortly." He nodded to her and patted her stomach before withdrawing his hand and standing.

"I'm on my way Ziva." He ended the call and then bent down, pressing a soft kiss onto Jenny's forehead. "I'm taking you home after we get Leon. Hopefully the press won't think to stake out my house."

"And if they do? You are one of the best known Agents just by being a pain in the ass, you know." she smirked at him and he smiled back, walking over to the door and opening it.

"We'll work something out." He said softly, then walked through it and closed it behind him.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you to Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, LadyJibbs, HesMines, JenniferS. DNCIS, Huddly, ncis-csiNY and sn855850 for reviewing!

Tim McGee watched the arguments for a few more moments, but to be honest, he wasn't interested. Abby had spoken to him whilst Gibbs had been interrogating Nikki Jardine and what she had told him had scared him. It was exactly what he had tried to prevent by drinking her drink for her (he couldn't remember it but Abby said he had, and it did sound like him; action before thinking). She seemed to be alright but he knew her. It was just a front, a false smile to make people believe she was all right.

The interrogations were important, so he couldn't walk out before Gibbs got here, but Abby was never far from his mind. He should be with her, helping her through her ordeal and letting her know she was cared for. She was strong, but even she couldn't deny that something terrible nearly happened to her, and the trauma of that had to be faced and dealt with before she burned out. He could talk to Ducky about it, or have Ducky talk to Abby, he was qualified wasn't he? Maybe she would need more professional help.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. Ziva turned to him but said nothing, opting to watch the two gunmen lose their patience with each other. The door flew open suddenly and Gibbs strode in, the two men inside spinning to look at the new arrival. Gibbs walked to his customary chair and placed a cup of coffee on the table's surface, a file joining it. He sat and then stared pointedly at the two men, who glared back. Gibbs used his feet to push their chairs out and they reluctantly sat opposite him.

Tony stepped up to the glass and grinned at McGee and Ziva. They smiled back and he held out a hand with ten bucks in it.

"Ten says that they both spill in the next five minutes."

"The next ten minutes." Ziva countered, placing her ten in Tony's hand.

"I'll take the next five." McGee said, putting his ten on Ziva's. Tony looked pointedly at the tech, who shook his head, and then he clenched his hand and pointed to the glass.

"And now we wait." They gathered eagerly around the glass and stayed quiet, hoping not to miss anything.

* * *

Gibbs sat up straight in his chair and picked up the folders on the table, one for each man opposite. Jim Spence and Adam Miller; both had good records, both were supposedly loyal to their country and the best part was that they were both sharp shooters, which was a classification that applied to Gibbs himself. Jenny was as good as a sharp shooter too, she had proven that over and over, most recently when her informant was killed and she managed to hit the getaway vehicle and kill the driver, she just hadn't been in a military unit to receive the title, but he had taught her himself, he knew how good she was. It was little wonder the Sec-Nav had chosen these guys to watch him; the question was if they knew what they had been involved in, or if the Sec-Nav had lied to them. Gibbs looked up from their files and watched them struggle to keep cool heads. Something was definitely eating them, and it didn't seem like remorse.

"The Secretary of the Navy has been involved in some… questionable dealings. We know what he has done and why, what we want to know now is how you two were involved." The men glanced at each other but stayed silent. Gibbs watched them as their eyes connected and he could see them deciding if they could get away with selling each other out. He smothered his grin, criminals were so predictable.

"I had no idea what he was up to sir, honest. It was Adam that he always talked things over with." One of them said quickly, leaning away from the guy next to him as if to distance himself from him. The other man, Adam, glared at him, outraged that he had beaten him to passing off the blame.

"You liar, it was you! My hand to God sir,-" Adam began, but Gibbs didn't want them to think they could convince him they were innocent; he wanted answers, so he cut him off.

"He can't have kept both of you in the dark, which one did he really talk things over with?" he prodded lightly, knowing they wouldn't give up any information until he refused to believe anything they were saying. He just had to play one against the other until they broke.

"Him." they both said, pointing at each other

"Try both." Jenny spoke up from the doorway, leaning back on the closed door, showing him without words she had been in for a few moments; long enough to ascertain the direction the interrogation was taking. He knew that she wouldn't have interrupted unless she was thinking along the same wavelength as him, or thought she was. She walked away from the door and slowly rounded the table behind the suspects.

Gibbs sent her a warning glance, they were both dangerous and the length of time they had been kept stewing would make them volatile enough to attack her if they boiled over the wrong way. Even with him there and backup behind the glass they could cause serious damage to her, possibly even kill her before they could help her. Jenny simply sent him a sly smile and moved closer to them, so that she was between the suspects.

"No sir, ma'am, it was Jim. He was always in private meetings with the Sec-Nav." Adam said, studiously avoiding looking at the man next to him. Jenny leaned in between them.

"Well that doesn't sound fair. How could he have a cohesive unit if he was favouring one of you?" she asked, catching Gibbs' eye, a sparkle in her own. She had always loved the interrogation games, the mind games. She was good at them, and together they could crack a bank vault with words.

"Exactly what I thought ma'am." Adam agreed, his voice giving away his irritation with the situation he had been in. Gibbs nearly smiled; the Sec-Nav had set the groundwork for this split of loyalties by trying to keep his secrets with one guard or the other, rather than both. This could be a very easy interrogation.

"That's bull! Adam was the one in the private meetings; he took him aside after every mission!" Jim exploded, turning in his seat to point his finger accusingly at Adam, his face taking on a slight red tinge. Gibbs sat up a little straighter, and Jenny took that signal as intended. She slowly walked away from them and came to stand next to Gibbs at the other end of the table, perching on the corner of it casually to show them she wasn't moving because she was rattled, she just wanted to sit down. Gibbs relaxed slightly once she was on his side of the table and then Adam turned to face Jim, meeting his accusation with his own rage.

"Oh yeah? What about the trip to that Doctor's place that first time? He took you aside for ten whole minutes before he sent us!" Adam shouted, and Gibbs realised they were talking about Todd Gelfand. They were being recorded in here, which meant they had them on camera admitting to looking for blackmail material; another charge to keep these guys in jail.

"He wanted me to scope out the guys house for blackmail stuff, nothing important and certainly nothing like the visits to NCIS that you took part in without me!" Jim hissed back. Jenny picked up Gibbs' coffee and drank some of it, using it to hide her sudden focus on their shouting match. Gibbs stared at her and took the cup back and drained it, placing it purposefully on the desk between the two men, distracting their attention from each other and momentarily bringing their focus to him.

"What did you do on those visits?" he asked, watching Adam intently. The young man looked at him.

"I waited for him in the Director's Assistants office. He never took very long and I don't know what he did." He said, directing his statement more to his colleague than to Gibbs or Jenny.

"And the last time you were here? What did you do then?" Jenny asked, attracting the attention of Adam and holding it by leaning towards him slightly, a kind and understanding look on her face.

"I arrested the Director on charges of conspiracy to murder the previous Director and obstructing a federal investigation by removing or sabotaging the evidence linked to the previous Director's murder investigation." Adam said, reeling off the charges Vance had been bound by. Gibbs sat forward too and Jenny stood, walking back around the table, behind the suspects.

"Where is he being held?" Gibbs asked Adam, hoping not to put too much importance on the question, the risk of Adam or Jim withholding the information was too great.

"I don't know sir; I was never involved in anything illegal." Adam said, pleading with Gibbs to believe he was innocent, but neither Gibbs nor Jenny was fooled. Jenny leaned down next to Adam and spoke right by his ear.

"We know you were, or you wouldn't have been waiting in that safe house to shoot a CIA Agent, rather than arrest him." she said, and Adam stiffened in his seat, his posture one of a cornered animal. Gibbs directed his attention back to him, allowing Jenny to slowly make her way around the table.

"I was in the building when the two of you and the Sec-Nav escorted Director Vance from the building. You were involved, the only question now is how much time you do, and where." He said, catching the eyes of both Jim and Adam.

"There is only one deal on offer here, gentlemen. I'd think carefully on your loyalties if I were you." Jenny threw over her shoulder while she sauntered around the table and perched on the table on the other side of Gibbs, so she was near the door, carefully not blocking the view of the suspects from the camera. The two men glanced at each other quickly, both faces showing the longing for the deal.

"I want to deal." Adam said quickly, beating Jim to the punch this time. Gibbs nodded agreeably.

"If your information leads us to him, you'll get the deal; after we bring him home." He said, the condition clear in his statement, but Adam shook his head stubbornly, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair.

"I want a deal _before_ I give you the information." He said smirking, thinking he had the upper hand. Jim leaned forward and placed his hands flat on the desk.

"I'll tell you where he is, I want the deal, my information is more accurate anyway. I took him to the holding area; I can give you the key to the lock." Jim said, knowing his offer was the best. Gibbs looked up at Jenny and she nodded before walking over to the door and pulling it open. Ziva and Tony appeared and walked over to Adam. They cuffed him and ushered him out of the room, amidst rude protests. Once all was quiet again Jenny stood next to Gibbs.

"Alright, where is he? And where is this key?"


	24. Chapter 24

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you to Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, LadyJibbs, black widow mistress, sn855850 and YourFavoriteLabPartnerEver for reviewing!

Jenny, Gibbs, Tony, Ziva, McGee and Ducky stepped out of their cars, glancing up at the small building in front of them. This was where the Sec-Nav had hidden Leon Vance. Jim Spence, the second of the Sec-Nav's guards, had given them directions to this building, along with a detailed description of the layout and the key to let them in. The lock on Vance's cell was digital, so he had told them the number and they had given him the deal they had promised him. He was on his way to a state prison at that very moment. Tony and Ziva looked around the building for security measures or guards, while McGee and Gibbs walked up to the door. Ducky waited by his van, not wanting to get in the way of the rescue mission. He would be there if he was needed, but he hoped he wouldn't be.

Jenny stood with him for a moment, vacillating on whether she should follow or not. Gibbs hadn't wanted her to leave NCIS, her status as 'back from the dead' could have given them more trouble than it was worth if she had been spotted leaving with them, and the last thing they needed was the press present when they were rescuing Vance. She had popped on some sun glasses and twisted her hair up in a knot, putting an NCIS cap on over it to hide her hair and borrowing Ziva's NCIS jacket to look like a normal Agent. The press didn't know every Agent, so they hadn't had any reason to look too close at her. They probably didn't remember her telling them she had been a field Agent, so they were waiting for a well dressed and immaculate lady to step out of the building and address them.

She watched as Tony and Ziva finished scouting and rejoined Gibbs and McGee by the front of the building. They spoke and then the team all got into their positions and she decided that she couldn't just stand around and do nothing, she had been a great Field Agent; she could do what she wanted. Technically she had no rank now, so she wasn't any more important than the others. She could go with them and they couldn't complain about her putting her life in danger. She smiled at Ducky and he rolled his eyes, sighed and then waved her off after Jethro. Her mind was made up, and she wouldn't change it.

Jenny followed the team, ignoring the looks that Gibbs was giving her. She wasn't sitting this out; she needed to do something and saving the man that had taken over her Agency upon her 'death' seemed like the thing to do. Gibbs moved up to the door and Ziva took point at the other side of it. McGee produced the key that Jim had given them and turned it in the lock, and then retreated back so Gibbs could push open the door. Ziva entered first, then Gibbs, guns drawn and pointed in front of them. Tony went in next and Jenny followed him, pulling out her own weapon. Well, the backup gun that Ziva had passed to her while Gibbs wasn't looking. It was small, but then it didn't need to be a big gun to kill someone.

They leapfrogged down the corridors, checking each room as they passed them, but they saw no one. It was quite a shambles on the inside. The windows were boarded up so very little light was getting in, and water dripped from holes in the ceiling. The plaster was crumbling off of the walls, leaving bare brick in places and the floor was covered in debris, but that was why the Sec-Nav used it. It looked so run down and uninhabitable no one would think of looking in it for a cellar; which is where Vance was being held. They followed the directions they had memorized from the layout Jim had drawn for them, thankful he had been so attentive to detail. They would have missed their doorway if he hadn't told them it was covered by planks of rotten wood.

Tony pulled some of the planks away, the Woodlice (also known as Pillbugs), Termites and Springtails all ran from the disturbance, some burrowing into the wood, others dropping off and disappearing in the detritus covering the floor. Tony ignored the bugs, but Gibbs watched the termites carefully, glaring at the ones that moved in his direction, practically daring them to try and latch onto his boots for a ride home. No power on this earth would keep them alive if he found termites in his boat. Vance had damn well better be alive. He wasn't risking the life of his '_Kelly'_ for the guy to be dead. The doorway was uncovered quickly, and Ziva ducked through first, then Gibbs, then Jenny, then Tony. McGee stayed at the doorway as a sentry, should anyone stumble upon them.

In the room past the freshly uncovered doorway, was a relatively cleaner room with a trap door in the floor. This was where the rundown building showed the gems it was hiding. Ziva pulled open the trapdoor and Jenny and Gibbs pointed their weapons down the hole. There was no one there and they moved closer, shining a light down. A flight of wooden stairs greeted them and they looked at each other, both noting the clean floor. Someone was keeping this place clean. Were they in at the moment? Jim had told them of the security measures; the cameras and the occasional guard to feed the prisoners, but he had only been to the place three times, so he didn't know much about it. There were supposedly two men being held, one was Vance, the other was none of Jim's business, so they were clueless as to his identity and/or crime. They were walking in blind.

Jenny nodded to Gibbs and he moved down the stairs, Jenny close behind him. She wanted to be close enough to shoot at anyone that tried to kill Gibbs, but not too close so he couldn't fall back into cover. A fine line, but one they had walked many times. Jenny felt her heart rate increase as the thrill of the investigation really took hold of her. Maybe she could be an Agent again, maybe she could work with Gibbs… the thought was gone before it fully formed. She wasn't an Agent anymore, she was a Director. What would she do now? What if Vance was alive? She couldn't be Director again unless he gave it up, and that was highly doubtful. He had worked hard to get there, just like she had. She shook off her thoughts and brought her mind to the present.

Ziva and Tony followed her and Gibbs shortly after they disappeared from view, leaving the trapdoor open so they could get back out. For all they knew it only opened from the outside. They walked along a corridor that, quite frankly looked like it was straight out of a science-fiction movie. It was all shiny steel walls and floors, with block lights overhead, casting an even glow across the floor. The doors were unmarked so only people that knew where to go could make head or tails of the layout. It was very effective, since every now and then they passed a set of wooden stairs that looked exactly like the ones they had come down. They were to catch out trespassers; there was nothing above them, just a panel that looked like a trapdoor.

Gibbs counted each set of stairs, not needing to, because he had memorised the layout, it was just to keep himself calm. He didn't rattle easy, but the corridor looked exactly the same, like they were walking in a huge circle. Counting them made it easier on his mind because he had something to focus on. They were close, seven sets of stairs, not including the real ones, and then the room immediately right. He counted the seventh set with a small breath of relief, not wanting to actually sigh since it could rattle his team. Jenny made eye contact with him and widened her eyes in a tense way, showing she was relieved to have finally found what they were looking for. He returned the gesture, glad to have someone around that would understand him without asking.

Ziva and Tony took point around the door and then Ziva turned the handle, pushing the door open slowly. Tony ducked through and then Ziva. Jenny and Gibbs followed, and not a moment too soon. A shot impacted a few inches from Gibbs' head and he pulled Jenny through the doorway with him as he ducked and spun. She did the same and then laid on the floor next to him. They both ducked around the doorway and fired, their different heights making them more able to shoot without worrying about one of them not getting cover. The guard dropped his weapon as a bullet tore through his shoulder and then dropped to one knee as another tore through his calf. Once the threat was neutralised Gibbs helped Jenny to her feet and they both walked over to the guard. They secured him just as Tony and Ziva burst back through the door, coming to an abrupt halt once they saw the emergency was over.

"Argh… I told you it was nothing!" Tony grumbled.

"I would rather be thorough from now on Tony." Ziva said to him quietly, and his demeanour changed instantly. He didn't want to remember the things he had thought up as excuses to stop him and Ziva from looking for Jenny in LA. It had been stupid and unprofessional of him. He was ashamed of his behaviour and could very easily identify with how Ziva was feeling, that was why he had come running back too without complaint. He was very glad to see they were unharmed.

"Stay here with this guy; we'll go on to get Vance." Gibbs said, passing Tony and Ziva and walking through the door. Jenny walked with him, eager to get this job over with. They looked around the corner cautiously, looking at the steel room, with glass fronted cells. They all had digital locks with red lights on, showing they were locked. Jenny walked into the room first, looking carefully in each cell before moving on. Gibbs took the other side and together they looked through the twenty five cells. Vance and the mystery prisoner were right on the end, in the last two cells.

Leon looked stressed. His shirt was dirty, with small droplets of dried blood on it, his lip swollen and his eyes blood shot. He hadn't wanted to sleep, preferring to keep watch and try to take advantage of the guard's visits. Once he saw Jenny and Gibbs however, his eyes widened and then cleared. He knew he was rescued.

"I have never been so happy to see your sorry butt, Gibbs." He said, good naturedly. Gibbs nodded to him and tapped in the release code. The red light flashed and then went out, a green light flashed on and the mechanism released. The door opened and Vance walked out. "Well, I never thought I'd be seeing you again, Shepard." He said. Jenny smiled at him and then let out the other prisoner. She kept him at gun point and the four of them rejoined Tony, Ziva and the guard, then left the cellar. Going out of the trapdoor and then meeting with McGee was the high point of the trip. It was the moment all of the claustrophobia disappeared and they made their way out of the building.

Gibbs and Tony carried the guard to Ducky, while McGee cuffed the mystery guy and Ziva escorted Vance to a car. Jenny thought about going with Vance, but she couldn't face being trapped in a car with the smug man. She waited for Gibbs to finish with the guard and then approached him, wringing her hands slightly. She had a dilemma still. She needed to get changed into clothes that she _hadn't_ been wearing for two days, but she had none, nor a house, nor any money. Until she got her life sorted out, starting with her job, she had nothing. She could only hope Jethro was serious about taking her home, so she could wash her clothes for tomorrow at the least.

A.N.: I think that the epilogue will be next. Thank you for reading and reviewing!


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

A.N.: Thank you Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, jstapny, Huddly, black widow mistress, HesMines and sn855850 for reviewing! Thank you guys so much! Thanks to everyone who has alerted this story, favourited it, stuck with it and come back to it! Thank you!

Gibbs watched Ducky tend to the guard for a few moments and then left him to Tony. His senior field Agent could take care of the guy if he got antsy or aggressive. He turned around and looked over at the car Ziva and McGee were taking Vance back to the Navy yard in, expecting to see Jenny going with them, but instead she was walking towards him, wringing her hands and looking decidedly nervous. He took a moment to just watch her approach him before going to meet her halfway, she obviously wanted to talk to him and if it made her nervous he didn't want anyone to overhear. They moved away to a good distance and then Gibbs looked at Jenny expectantly. She wrung her hands for a few more moments and then dropped her hands to her sides, apparently deciding to just come out and say it.

"Jethro I have nothing to wear." Gibbs' eyebrows rose and she sighed. "I mean I have nowhere to go, I own nothing but what I'm wearing-" she held up her hand and counted out the problems she was facing, which just brought a smile to his face.

"Yes." He said, interrupting her tirade slightly amused. She didn't seem to hear however and carried on talking.

" -I'm in desperate need of a shower and a bed-" she counted off a few more fingers and he interrupted her again.

"Yes." He repeated, getting a little irritated that she was ignoring him when she was asking him for something.

"I don't want to impose on you but you did offer-" she carried on and he had finally had enough.

"Yes Jen! I said yes! You can come home with me!" he cried forcefully, taking a step towards her. She stopped talking and looked up at him, a completely innocent look on her face.

"I know, I just wanted to hear you say my name… like you used to." she gave him a sly smile and a brazen wink. His irritation disappeared almost instantly, replaced by the familiar warm sensation in his chest that she gave him, the love she inspired in him, and the memory of what they had begun in her office, well Vance's office, made the rest of him warm. Maybe it was time to take her home; Tony could sort out the paperwork on this case. He smirked at her and then turned, walking quickly to his car. Jenny swiftly caught up with him, slipping into the passenger side of his car as he got in the driver's seat, and just buckling in before he started the car and pulled out onto the road.

* * *

The ride to his house was silent, neither knowing how to broach what they would do when they got there, or what would happen after. Jenny really just wanted a shower, her every move just reminded her that it had been too long since her lat one. She was quite sure she smelled bad, and though no one had commented, her lack of perfume and, well clean skin, had raised an eyebrow or two from the team. Thankfully they had shown a maturity she hadn't known they had possessed by saying nothing, not even to each other. She just wanted to feel clean again.

Her thoughts drifted to the moment in her old office when she had nearly succumbed to Jethro on the couch, and she shuddered in both disgust, because her body was dirty, and arousal, because he had the power to make her want him anywhere, in any situation. He entered her personal space and she went weak at the knees and moist in… she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain control of her tingling nether regions. His driving was already awful; he didn't need her distracting him in any other way.

She blushed at her thoughts and tried to convince herself she hadn't actually been thinking about what she had just thought about. They weren't even together; she was getting ahead of herself. He hadn't even expressed any wish to get back with her, just to get it on with her, and while she was flattered that he still found her attractive after nine years, his refusal to get back with her when Carson had been staying with her still stung. For all she knew, he was just content to have her in his bed until he found someone to replace her with. She wouldn't know though until he said something, or she did. She didn't see why she should though, she had extended the olive branch already, it was his turn now. If he didn't, she would just take that as a sign that he didn't want her, she didn't even dare to hope that he loved her like she loved him.

They pulled up in front of his house and exited the car. Gibbs walked to his front door and opened it for her, turning to make sure she got through it and then he surprised her by locking the door behind them. She raised her eyebrows at him quizzically and he gestured to her with his keys.

"You're a high profile woman who just came back from the dead, and it was you who said I was a prominent figure with the media, remember? The last thing we need is a reporter creeping into the house to get footage of you in the shower." He explained evenly, trying to erase the image of water coursing over and down her body from his mind.

"Oh yes, I'd forgotten about that. Thank you for thinking of my safety… or at least my modesty." She chuckled and ducked her head, then nodded to him, trying to stifle a laugh at the uncomfortable look on his face. She figured it would be disturbing for him to change his habits just because she was here with him, and actually having a reporter come to his house for a story would be bordering on the insane. Jethro fidgeted, like he wanted to move away, but he didn't. He just stood motionless in front of her and she began to feel a little awkward.

She should ask about the shower, and to be shown where his washing machine was, but there was a heat building up between them, its presence was so seductive that she found she couldn't move for fear of dispelling it. The awkwardness might come back, and that would be unbearable.

After a few tense moments, they realised that the space between them seemed to be getting smaller. Jenny finally lifted her head and realised they were leaning towards each other; their faces were only a few inches apart. Her tongue sprang from her mouth, slowly wetting her lips as his eyes grew dark. Drawing out the moment was her speciality, getting right into it was his.

He dropped his mouth to hers, their lips caressing each other once they met. Jenny sighed softly and Jethro took hold of her, drawing her into his arms and cementing their mouths together, groaning when Jenny parted her lips to his tongue, and they took the kiss to the next level; a full on make out session in his hallway. He pushed her back against the wall and dropped his mouth from hers to her neck, attacking the soft spot on the long smooth column of skin.

The distraction worked, she almost gave up thinking altogether and she almost just let him have his way with her right there and then, but his attention switching from her mouth to her neck allowed her time to think, and thinking reminded her of her immediate need for a shower. She couldn't put this off, and besides, having sex with him now before they had sorted out where they stood would be a big mistake. She didn't want to push him away again, what if that broke his patience with her? But she couldn't do this, not right now. She was only human; she needed to know her love was returned before she gave her heart and body to him. If it wasn't, laying with him for the hell of it could destroy her.

"Jethro… stop… please?" she whispered, gathering herself together in an attempt to circumvent the arousal humming though her body. His mouth stilled on her throat and he pulled away, standing stiffly in front of her, staring into her eyes.

"If that's what you want." He said guardedly, as if he was expecting her to tell him she hated him or something equally terrible. She pushed away from the wall and reached out to him, gently placing a hand on his chest.

"It isn't, but I feel… disgusting right now. I don't want this to go any further while I'm so… dirty." She explained hesitantly. She wanted to tell him she needed to know he loved her, but she doubted he would understand why it was important to her. After all, she wasn't Shannon, so he probably didn't love her, at least not like he had loved his first wife; the wife that mattered to him. She shouldn't be thinking so negatively, if the cues of his body told her anything it was that he cared for her deeply, but it wasn't the same as love.

Jethro nodded silently and then took her hand, stroking the soft skin gently and then returning it to her side. He turned from her and made his way up the stairs, leaving her alone in the hallway. She felt like she had been kicked. He had walked away without saying anything, surely he knew what she wanted from him, what she wanted to hear from him? She shook her head ignoring the hurt welling up inside her and walked further into the house, looking for the washing machine by herself. She would have to get the lay of the land once again, so to speak, she would be here until she got back on her feet.

It took only a matter of minutes to find the washer, and a few more to find the liquid tabs that he used for his laundry. Obviously he was a little more self conscious than she thought, those things were branded. She smirked to herself, thinking it was probably the only thing in his house that was. She left the washing machine and went back to the hallway, coming to an abrupt stop when she heard the siren song of hot running water, luring her up the stairs. It took a matter of seconds for her feet to take her up the stairs and before she knew where she was, she was stepping into the bathroom.

Jethro looked up from where he sat on the edge of the tub, which he was filling with water and some dusty-looking bath essence. It was old, and then she recognised it as some she had used over in Paris. Had he kept some of it? Gratitude shoved the left over hurt from her body and she felt tears spring into her eyes. He had done this for her because she had said she felt dirty… communication without words; that was her Jethro. He was _showing_ _her_ he loved her. He stood up from the side of the tub, but she had other ideas. She closed the door behind her and threw herself into his arms.

"There's no bubble bath, but I figured you would want a bath more than a shower after everything that has happened to you over the last few days." He said to her, softly whispering in her ear. She just squeezed him tighter and buried her face in his neck.

"I love you too, Jethro." she whispered and his arms tightened and he dropped a kiss on to her hair. She was back in his arms, everything else could wait. As they undressed each other and climbed into the tub, they marvelled at how even the most unlikely of situations could bring two people, who had repeatedly hurt each other and distanced themselves from each other, together again.

* * *

Trent Kort watched the house for a few more moments, his CIA driver, and escort on all of his trips outside the Agency, sighing loudly in irritation. He had asked to be driven here for no real reason other than to see his adversary one more time, and then had stayed parked for the better part of two hours. They had watched as Gibbs and Shepard had entered the house and the special moment in the hallway, but his orders were to stay away from NCIS, or the next time he was in trouble, the Agency wasn't going to bail him out.

So he just watched as the lights in the house were all turned out, until only one light remained; the bedroom light. He curled his lip in disgust and ordered his driver to take him back to the Agency. He didn't really want to wait for that light to go out; he wasn't some pervert looking or gratification. No, he was just making sure his chance to get even hadn't passed him by. They were still alive, and that made him smile. He wasn't going to actively seek them out, but if their paths did cross again… well, he wouldn't take such a roundabout route next time. Next time, he would just shoot them, face to face.

* * *

The end.


End file.
